tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-315218142024-03-05T12:34:20.224-05:00Following After You.sure footing in the grit of life.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-62938327234649412712012-06-25T15:50:00.001-04:002012-06-25T15:51:12.562-04:00meaning-FULL [from gramophone life]At gramophone life from here on in: <a href="http://gramophonelife.tumblr.com/post/25870440130/meaning-full">http://gramophonelife.tumblr.com/post/25870440130/meaning-full</a>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-51330518782753690272012-06-17T20:33:00.002-04:002012-06-17T20:33:45.253-04:00love a man [from gramophone life @ Tumblr]You can find me over at Tumblr. <br />
Swooning over a certain lovely man in my life: my Father.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://gramophonelife.tumblr.com/">http://gramophonelife.tumblr.com/</a><br />
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-6445403377904834362012-05-27T22:58:00.001-04:002012-05-27T22:58:19.773-04:00from gramophone life: respect<a href="http://gramophonelife.tumblr.com/post/23905146559/body-with-fathers-day-fast-approaching-ive" target="_blank">http://gramophonelife.tumblr.com/post/23905146559/body-with-fathers-day-fast-approaching-ive</a><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>with father’s day fast approaching, I’ve gotten to thinking about fatherliness, loving my fellow man and that big smacker of a word, right up there….</em></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>respect.</em></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>I’m not sure how many will admit to finding ‘respect’ a difficult thing to do. Believe me, respecting valiant, consistent, kind-worded people = generally not a problem, right?</em></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>But what about the ‘jerks’? The crabs? The people who cut you off, and cut you up?</em></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>The people you’re close enough to, to know their ins-and-outs, and wrinkles?</em></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Those paradoxical people: pillars and pitifuls?</em></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Well, for one: I find out they bring all of that stuff in me… once I get over complaining at how crabby they are, and remember, shoot yeah…. I guess I’m a bit inconsistent too, imperfect. Unkind, sometimes on the outside, sometimes on the inside.</em></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>It cannot be forced. People may demand it, but they can’t wriggle it out of you. They might harass you into saying it, acting it - but you never have to believe it, to mean it.</em></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>That’s right. They’ve got to earn it. Right?</em></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Well… No, more than yes. I give my respect. It’s an act of my will. I will always have the choice to do it. But, no more than the love, that is supposed to flow freely from us in Christ, should respect for another be quenched.</em></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>If I’m waiting for someone else to catapult to my standard of good to deserve respect, I’ll be in trouble. While distracted in self-pity of the imperfect parts of another, I miss the perfection of the One who is both, Redeemer & Healer, both Lover & Honourer (or respecter) of our Souls.</em></span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Respect, just like love, is yours to willfully, unconditionally and generously give, from the outpouring of what Christ pours into you:</em></span></blockquote>
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<blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. <span class="text John-13-35" id="en-NIV-26666"><span class="woj">By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. - John 13:34-35</span></span></em></span></blockquote>
</blockquote>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-73131154899194294272012-05-27T22:51:00.002-04:002012-05-27T22:51:52.518-04:00Moving time.Well hello there!<br />
<br />
I'm glad you've stopped by. I've moved to <a href="http://gramophonelife.tumblr.com/">http://gramophonelife.tumblr.com/</a>. <br />
<br />
much peace - hope to see you there!Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-28821688962683660012012-03-07T23:49:00.001-05:002012-03-07T23:57:37.203-05:00more the patient.it's almost like I can touch it -<br />
this intangible grace,<br />
as my hands run up and out and over the traces of the good He is<br />
<br />
fingertip glancing the softest touch - for oh, how the softest one both thrills and humbles me<br />
over this life-abundant, swollen with Him<br />
doing worship as I look, and see, and love<br />
and song burst from the heart, out to His glory to Everlasting<br />
<br />
I think of how<br />
there has been no ease, but there is rest<br />
there has been no momentary quench, but deep satisfaction grows<br />
and a more genuine smile, a more understanding ear,<br />
a more broken and healing heart, more the patient than ever anything else.<br />
<br />
Enjoying Psalm 63 - inviting you to share.<br />
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-18882493790188128522012-02-06T22:47:00.000-05:002012-02-06T23:01:02.171-05:00little rays<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyS8TzFal8-lo7es6rRdodp5SmPr2fHx6gqbu9G7PTs3vJjdC-5E0PbGdT8tNs5VrskKUGV1CX69mUiwIylPJ1dG7D-ltn7pDIcMZwtuHXEqzpvGBDTTEsiaFezQxKXdzYDSCL/s1600/untitled_by_meemst-d4osrwf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyS8TzFal8-lo7es6rRdodp5SmPr2fHx6gqbu9G7PTs3vJjdC-5E0PbGdT8tNs5VrskKUGV1CX69mUiwIylPJ1dG7D-ltn7pDIcMZwtuHXEqzpvGBDTTEsiaFezQxKXdzYDSCL/s320/untitled_by_meemst-d4osrwf.jpg" width="240" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">peeking around clouds,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">tip-toeing through grey & blue</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">dropping lavish - gold & warm, into our souls, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">like a hand to hold,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">or a happy hug</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You drip, drop, delight onto world-weary hearts</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Praise Your name, Jesus Christ.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is wonderful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://1.gvt0.com/vi/0A8almp_nCU/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0A8almp_nCU&fs=1&source=uds" />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">much of His peace.</span><br />
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-53955029579721078882012-01-17T23:00:00.002-05:002012-01-18T19:59:02.676-05:00the way we should talk about women's bodies.(Mmmmm. Below you will have a chance to watch the beautiful documentary that spurred this post on. Enjoy)<br />
<br />
If you are a woman, and anything like myself, you hit points in your life when you look in the mirror - or over the muffin-top at your belt line (if those pants still button up...) and feel frustrated and exhausted. Or those faint lines creeping across my forehead - the marks of two years, part time and grad education - but not clearly having it together at the gym. Or in life.<br />
<br />
I feel imperfect. Unmotivated. A failure. An apathetic steward. The antithesis of <em>health</em> in health care professional.<br />
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I feel downright discouraged! Angry even. <em>Haven't</em> <em>I been hard at work? Hasn't my work been pleasing and diligent?</em><br />
<em> How is <u>this</u> my reward?</em><br />
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<em>The tummy that's never quite flat, the hair that's always 'too' flat or wind-swept or humidified, a chest that defies cute, teeny bathing suits, the thighs that are 'child-bearing' in appearance.</em></div>
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Here's the deal with how I'm thinking. It's wrong. All wrong. Very wrong.</div>
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I misunderstand my body -</div>
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and the marks of trail over it telling where I've been. Where Christ has been - and etched His mark.</div>
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I have worry lines. I went through a really terrible depression. I could have lost my mind or my life.</div>
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I might not have had breath to pinken my skin, nor the</div>
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creases, where Christ came and dwelt and saved me.</div>
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I have laugh lines too. Where I learned the names of new friends, and gained and appreciation for red wine, and learned that life was not all about school. </div>
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I have laugh lines, </div>
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because God expanded the stretch of my understanding.</div>
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I have flabby arms. Perfect for resting on a tabletop for hours as I tapped away at keys, letting the fingers be nimble without complaint,</div>
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because God helped me focus on the tasks before me, without thought to the consequence.</div>
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I have a tummy. Where I leaned against the back of a chair, when I wasn't lifting and turning human bodies or leaning into a hug,</div>
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because God taught me to lean on something other than myself.</div>
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I have breasts and a bottom that with great certainty, prove the existence of gravity. And they are just there really. The comfort factor of the bottom came in handy, all of those long hours studying and writing,</div>
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because God taught me that purpose is revealed in the fullness of His time.</div>
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I have the teeth and the tremor that mark me a coffee 'addict'. And I swore I'd never be one, or possibly enjoy such a little cup of zippy pleasure,</div>
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because God knows our frailties, and how hard it is for me vacate my cozy bed in the morning, or stay alert and oriented through a department meeting.</div>
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Sure, I have goals to shape up. But the motivation changes, right - when we look at our bodies this way. This film reminded me of the gift it is to be marked. To be stretched. To have the gift of holding life within and before us.</div>
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Vessels, frail and imperfect, but <em>used</em> for good, good work, to the glory of God.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kfOBGQpG9fA" width="560"></iframe>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-55252067261510507702012-01-02T01:18:00.000-05:002012-01-02T01:18:31.378-05:00rumpled reflection.It's New Years day.<br />
I'm getting ready to be with the Body, though I'll show up late...<br />
<br />
Brushing my teeth and combing my hair,<br />
<br />
I look in the mirror.<br />
I don't like everything I see.<br />
<br />
What we put into our lives, shows up -<br />
Too much coffee, not enough sleep or veggies, <br />
the unkempt heap of papers on my desk and clothes in the back of the closet,<br />
plus effects of wine & bread & cheese, and not enough: gym-time, walk-time, get-out-and-run-even-though-you-hate-it time. And that's just the exterior stuff.<br />
<br />
This is a tough moment.<br />
because I remember what it feels like to hate this rumpled girl in the mirror.<br />
I'm afraid of the lines and wrinkles,<br />
the messy desk, the dishes to be done,<br />
and the well padded-corners - the droops that muscle has now gone extinct. <br />
<br />
I'm afraid of what this relfection might tell: <br />
that I didn't try; that while my focus was elsewhere <em>this </em>happened.<br />
<br />
I sigh.<br />
<br />
<em>I don't want this fear anymore.</em> Because fear will motivate you for all of the wrong reasons.<br />
It will destroy you,<br />
just when you think you've secured victories. <br />
You'll find you're just standing upon a heap of filthy lies - with a false mirror, trying hard to make believe it's real. And becoming even harder with hate.<br />
<br />
<br />
Lord have mercy. Transform me with Your love,<br />
so that in the rumply reflection there is find love not fear mirrored back - hope, not despair, freedom not hate.<br />
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<br />
To Him who has come, and who is able, be all glory & honour of 2012. Amen.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-7766792054506563912011-12-30T23:10:00.002-05:002011-12-30T23:11:21.984-05:00it's not over.if anything I have learned from years of shift work,<br />
and missing the 'traditions' of the Christmas hollidays - it is this:<br />
it is always Christmas. <br />
sometimes winter. <br />
sometimes gathered with family & friends, in the hallowed walls, flickering with candle glows.<br />
sometimes Friday evening, after work. In your pj's...<br />
<br />
The Goodness of the Son of God, born to our world... into our history,<br />
it's not over<br />
though presents are unwrapped, the food enjoyed and packed up - and we've all headed back to dailyness and work and saying 'Happy New Year' instead.<br />
<br />
Hallelujah to God, the Most High.<br />
Who has given us Jesus Christ, for every 360 days there are,<br />
until Christmas celebrations again.<br />
<br />
<br />
Enjoy the wonder friends, it's here :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/jlyuWCKrmW4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-34349215888441535662011-10-13T23:28:00.001-04:002011-10-13T23:34:35.969-04:00I write.Hi all.<br />
<br />
I feel a bit sheepish, coming here. Typing this and that - as though I've been at this. <br />
I haven't been typing black and white <em>here</em>,<br />
and I wonder if it shows?<br />
<br />
How He has soothed aches,<br />
as every word marched down to page became a prayer?<br />
a release? a surrender?<br />
<br />
If it shows, how He set my mind, and heart,<br />
and hands ablaze, with thought and word?<br />
And how, a signpost led to love,<br />
and work, and words to share and describe and explain?<br />
Words to give Him praise and glory?<br />
Words to point our hearts and minds back to Him who enlivens us - makes us, live and move and breathe?<br />
<br />
Next week, I stand to defend my thesis.<br />
I sincerely chuckle when I read it.<br />
It means what is on those 117 pages. And it means a lot more.<br />
How God is faithful to you in the task. How He drives you. How He raises you from the pit. How He places your feet on the solid ground of faith in Him. How He put every heart, and mind, and soul, around you that you might give Him thanks and praise.<br />
<br />
<br />
Amen. <br />
<br />
it is finished.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-59949830063974623412011-09-20T22:47:00.005-04:002011-10-13T23:33:53.674-04:00gravity of gospel.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnOZDsCXAXBgCx4nohY1pGZFhpOjZeq9o3gSOjGmGYrYYwiVr3MWQHHqU4mJOJhI_IgyW6mp14WDyM4Pw3yD0zmjH3MsVJhrQpitu6MKuynKQ34ODyZ7kchdmJdCDMeparUx3t/s1600/ripped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnOZDsCXAXBgCx4nohY1pGZFhpOjZeq9o3gSOjGmGYrYYwiVr3MWQHHqU4mJOJhI_IgyW6mp14WDyM4Pw3yD0zmjH3MsVJhrQpitu6MKuynKQ34ODyZ7kchdmJdCDMeparUx3t/s320/ripped.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;">it's been a tattering last couple of days,<br />as I try to piece together<br />this:<br /><br />I'm trying to reconcile<br />standing, hearing the bloodiest shriek -</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;">eyes rolling - not inhuman, but depraved.<br />I'm wondering, 'what in God's name am I doing here?'<br /><br />how does an anxious, rumpled, twenty-something<br />find herself called<br />Here. With purpose.<br /><br />Suffering tries to steal it.<br />worry grinds in deep, haunting memory.<br />Death, in all its suffocating power aims for precedence.<br /><br /><br />this threatens to take us all.<br />I've never seen it so grave.<br />So clear, and true, and bright the choice.<br /><br />Even here, in the sobs of not understanding,<br />He is. Thank God! He is Who He is.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;">More than black, white and tangible page</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;">,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;">that burn and blot and tear</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;">blood and body, Words from Holy lips</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;">resounding - hounding for dear ones</span></div>
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<br /></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-77386092402643055632011-06-30T23:40:00.000-04:002011-06-30T23:40:00.426-04:00the pulse of men & womenThe sense I get when I read the first chapters of Genesis - where the world and humanity, unfolds in the Creator's hands is that we, male and female are lovingly and tenderly made. Our action and intention perpetuated by the breath of God, pulsating with purpose to move and to think and to speak - to tend and to help. God made, him and her, human, in Him - in His image.<br /><br />Tonight's spooky incident was the apex of a train of thinking I've been on lately.<br /><br />While I walking home alone in the dark this evening, some guy ran at me - his face masked with paint, and scared the crap out of me. He used words to intimidate me, and I was alone. His friends got a laugh, and I cried - in the wake of the misapplication of human influence.<br />I felt similarly a few weeks ago, when I held the bleeding face of a man who had just been mugged - beaten with a rock in the face until he let go of his laptop. Brother broken on pavement, for a piece of plastic that will be obsolete in a matter of years or months.<br /><br />How we can so easily make priorities out of `things, and miss the 'apple of Christ's' eye in the meantime.<br />How simply we can act upon our propensity to deny God's image in the people beside us.<br />How easily we can rape.<br /><br />You know, sometimes I think I should just buck up and trust less. Laying bricks of fear and bitterness feels safer, definitely easier than vulnerability. It is less emotional than rending the soul before God in brokenheaertedness over sin and pain.<br /><br />But it`s a lie to merit myself alone above creeps in dark streets - to judge for myself alone, another adequate or inadequate of Christ`s unmerrited compassion and grace through, the betterness of what I do with my time or days.<br /><br />Without God, I`m not far off being a creep in a dark corner, really - from using the intent of my pulse for my own ends, to wield my influence in pride, insecurity, lust or anger. Maybe somethings don`t seem immediately negative or innately wrong, but over time they impact the heart - <em>and change the rhythym</em>.<br /><br />In the Creation story, we're given a pulse, human impulse and influence - things we do every day: <em>naming</em> - using language, defining, refining, proposing, sharing, describing; and <em>tending</em>: to work, to school, to children, to relationships, to gardens, to our hair, to our dishes and vacuuming. We`ve all got that common rhythm, that intent to process and do - to eat and to live.<br /><br /><br />In relationship with God, naming is full and good - a work of shaping and affirmation of `being` that He has created. Tending with Him through Jesus Christ, is a work of justice that flows from value beginning with Him.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-22926250068079029512011-06-27T23:19:00.004-04:002011-10-13T23:35:11.333-04:00Daddo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9GbfIbOanJKRzJcxpCXV8NQko3OWK3BkF3O4am9ZLUuZOOObJAL8wxLGK5Z5db945rL_DQsW_65y9xz-edwt6HefiA1gZG8YDkitO3Q_RYhdxh5-9DnzK8MIbcpcBuh4SHqQ/s1600/Ottawa+Feb+2011+%252815%2529.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623111155150787154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9GbfIbOanJKRzJcxpCXV8NQko3OWK3BkF3O4am9ZLUuZOOObJAL8wxLGK5Z5db945rL_DQsW_65y9xz-edwt6HefiA1gZG8YDkitO3Q_RYhdxh5-9DnzK8MIbcpcBuh4SHqQ/s320/Ottawa+Feb+2011+%252815%2529.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
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Lately, he's been "Daddo",</div>
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with a grin and wink that shows my cocky young adult spirit.</div>
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He's gone through many transformations</div>
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this hero-man, who's just a man</div>
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in the 24 years I've been his.</div>
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That's the thing about daughters and dads</div>
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there's all heart found-up, all tied-up in the growing up and going.</div>
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And he swells with pride to the limits of himself -</div>
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and gets frustrated.</div>
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But I'm not.</div>
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Because, he does - get all me. The Daddo-girl that needs help figuring out how to replace my taillight and change the oil in my car, or financial advice, or a few flowers sent to say I'm cherished. He's the one with the words to soothe a pre-interview worry with a dose of <em>sideline-cheerer dad</em>, and a tendered heart with a <em>dose of if-you-liked-it-then-you-shoulda-put-a-ring-on-it dad</em>. And he makes me laugh.</div>
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Maybe because I got his sense of humour.</div>
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He's the one to hear all of daughter-me, as hilarious and arduous I'm sure it sometimes is.</div>
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He works too long, on too many things. Doesn't sit in the sun enough. And we're still working on the shorts, black socks and shoes thing, and his cookie-monster habits.</div>
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But he's Dad; Daddo for now.</div>
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and his girl loves him.</div>
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</div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-26908877604574046802011-06-03T19:37:00.005-04:002011-06-03T19:56:05.710-04:00future floods & now.the future. <br />is always that.<br />you can plan, you can prepare.<br /><br />what you get in the end is, now.<br />Kingdom here. <br />today's work, worry, love, soup, bad-hair-day, good-hair-day, heartache, happiness - rain or shine.<br /><br />sometimes, no matter how you prepare - the future is different than the forecast.<br />sometimes you are dead on, and you swell with the pride of all the Scouts gone before at your preparedness.<br /><br />But none of this changes this Truth: that what you have is present, what you have is now, what you have is from Him: the Good and Gracious and Mighty, who <em>is</em> here, who <em>holds all </em>together - as futures flood into nows.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-91665317689476370662011-04-19T16:39:00.006-04:002011-10-13T23:36:09.808-04:00it's that Good.Even the weakest hand I would hold<br />
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and they are felt and known.<br />
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Not struck in the contempt of ignorance.<br />
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The silliest I embrace<br />
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for it is no matter in my House<br />
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Truly it is better lose it<br />
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in Holy's Good glory.<br />
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Love conquers death<br />
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In struggle to hold onto life so much;<br />
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<em>You cannot feel the gentleness of my Hand's touch.</em><br />
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My burden is easy - my load light;<br />
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otherwise you would revel in my Grace.<br />
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Come to me and admit the broken-<br />
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shed disgrace with thanksgiving.<br />
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For I have been coming to redeem long before you realized<br />
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the gravest imagining of your shortcoming.<br />
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- This is Good News.<br />
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Repent, Taste, Enjoy, Live:<br />
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by Christ Jesus.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-91288015667917326202011-04-08T14:05:00.004-04:002011-04-08T14:25:21.263-04:00slow & steady<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_UitkJAooScHfOs-e-5pzvRW-9XknJ5B8j2XRtnf93JaHs3mDeHYOCHU2Q8qCwVTw58_ehNcQgutU-6I9lX1knwa9Y0-_Z4NnBZ26-4Ya92TyLd95iCbI1lBLf92Ch2LgIG0i/s1600/IMG_4590.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593279266707348114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_UitkJAooScHfOs-e-5pzvRW-9XknJ5B8j2XRtnf93JaHs3mDeHYOCHU2Q8qCwVTw58_ehNcQgutU-6I9lX1knwa9Y0-_Z4NnBZ26-4Ya92TyLd95iCbI1lBLf92Ch2LgIG0i/s320/IMG_4590.JPG" /></a> spring has come again. not in any rush, but in gradual glowing hue of warm and wet, and light scents of new grass and buds... <br /><p></p><br /><p></p>not sideswiping us, but gently tickling us up the back, with <em>light</em> and <em>life:</em> <em></em><em>making slow and steady smiles upon our faces,</em> <em>up-turned in the rhythm of worship to the Maker of this season.</em> <em></em><em></em><em></em>winters pass away. the <strong>cold,</strong> from hurt and pain and suffering, is held in gentle Hands, and brushed in the warm of His gentle breath. Who could imagine, Love both Bold & Kind? Yet this is our God.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-53682094548832851212011-02-01T01:39:00.005-05:002011-02-16T09:22:29.021-05:00jump. right. in.I am not one prone to rash decision. <div><div>No, I tend to be the level-headed, calm, planner.</div><div>It serves me oh, so well,</div><div>against the fear of unknown.<br /><br /></div><div>What planning can't afford though is change.</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div>I'd always wanted a rabbit, and I was missing a little creature to come home to. </div><div>Longing for close, after so much loss.</div><div>So, on a whim, I went to a friend's barn in search for</div><div>a ginger and cream bundle of bunny-affection. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFHJ0f_H3X49Ij2-tdoIGfOOrzwCe7U23LRGMZ-AZoD-0azgqXmI1DNvdIuWmAfrliMO9WaUH1Tyn2E7Cg91wQE-JrBdPLCcEJ-KKpmF7w-3iFes9I1QS3DOzs_zuQpFbqAxm/s1600/IMG_4761.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573814701212694034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFHJ0f_H3X49Ij2-tdoIGfOOrzwCe7U23LRGMZ-AZoD-0azgqXmI1DNvdIuWmAfrliMO9WaUH1Tyn2E7Cg91wQE-JrBdPLCcEJ-KKpmF7w-3iFes9I1QS3DOzs_zuQpFbqAxm/s320/IMG_4761.JPG" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>If you knew her you could imagine the disappointment</div><div>when I brought home Nutmeg instead.</div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJkex7TgqG9mhXik_pAmZuTYLz6_DC6gk9-oVqiB7Bs4doIxtalz4gb2lSz7BgRI6RQ1R56W6xuRWQhgLdrfgslIXEhlRt94F6FRTP5cwIUJo716UDAjCj8pggO3oXxrG1Q1k/s1600/IMG_4988.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573814723622046354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJkex7TgqG9mhXik_pAmZuTYLz6_DC6gk9-oVqiB7Bs4doIxtalz4gb2lSz7BgRI6RQ1R56W6xuRWQhgLdrfgslIXEhlRt94F6FRTP5cwIUJo716UDAjCj8pggO3oXxrG1Q1k/s320/IMG_4988.JPG" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div>Orange, white and ornery. Unleashing a fury I was not aware such a small thing could possess.</div><div><br /><br /><br />caring for Nutmeg demanded my heart be changed,</div><div></div><div>my actions become deliberately compassionate:<br /><br /></div><div>subdueing with love rather than rigidity - </div><div>slowing enough to learn to care rightly.</div><div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-bhZyIZURLvdyWh_oFxzxhEFFN4X1lbxWswp-ixg84nTWJjHOJSqRFA6atJLjLZERPY189d1W8v0rKXO-gT8V5_oaDCiogxdJsGr8GIR_TmxGylzs693C5KMev_chWiWhyho/s1600/IMG_5014.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573814717857884210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-bhZyIZURLvdyWh_oFxzxhEFFN4X1lbxWswp-ixg84nTWJjHOJSqRFA6atJLjLZERPY189d1W8v0rKXO-gT8V5_oaDCiogxdJsGr8GIR_TmxGylzs693C5KMev_chWiWhyho/s320/IMG_5014.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br />a friend and I were recently talking about wanting to discern the will of God in our lives -</div><div>not wanting to chance a misaligned step toward Him:</div><div>fearing the trouble and potential all around, losing faith.</div><div></div><div><blockquote><div>Meanwhile, the boat was far out to sea when the wind came up against them<br />and they were battered by the waves. At about four o'clock in the morning, Jesus<br />came toward them walking on the water. </div><div>They were scared out of their wits. "A ghost!" they said, crying out in terror.<br /></div>But Jesus was quick to comfort them. "Courage, it's me. Don't<br />be afraid."<br />Peter suddenly bold, said, "Master, if it's really you, call me to come to<br />you on the water."<br />He said, "Come ahead."<br />Jumping out of the boat, Peter walked on the water to Jesus. But<br />when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost<br />his nerve and started to sink. He cried, "Master, save me!"<br />Jesus didn't hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his<br />hand. Then he said, "Faintheart, what got into you?"<br />The two of them climbed into the board and the wind died down. The<br />disciples in the boat, having watched the whole thing, worshiped Jesus, saying,<br />"This is it! You are God's Son for sure!"<br /></blockquote>- Matthew 14:26-34, MSG </div></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Faith might invite that you feel the sting of the storms, or a rabbit's generous bite.<br />But to change - to come close, you have to jump.right.in. </div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-7148092870351691262011-01-09T17:13:00.005-05:002011-02-05T15:03:16.730-05:00hearts&tales.In the romantic dream of a sage who teaches you the world's and better ways<br />is where I often live.<br />With an honest, in-the-chest yearning for oldness, <br />history, wrinkles to tell their tales<br />to speak of human life. To draw me to a warm hearth - and tell me desperate stories.<br /><br />I have no such formal sage.<br />Though I searched, and beat my breast when there was none to be found:<br />a bit like an orphan - wondering what daily life in Christ looks like.<br /><br />No, but I am in the company of many,<br />and in the economy of mercy - I am one, with them.<br />The night of my conversion, the speaker spoke to us on the ground,<br /> "get up, and turn around - welcome to the family of God".<br /><br />I have read Lewis, Augustine, Keirgkegaard.<br />Theresa, my Mother of faith, Nouwen,<br /> and His tracings scrawl across the lives of the enlivened and upon the rocks that call.<br />The stories, yes - desperate. The telling of them unique, human-voiced: loud, boisterous, crying, painful, laughing; and heart felt. <br />Mmmm, that He might make our hearts the listening hearth upon which His stories tell and resound.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-68234670260687974312011-01-06T18:44:00.004-05:002011-02-15T00:37:34.715-05:00break.down.ended up sitting in the middle of mess- surrounded by pieces that impossibly fit together - listening to His voice to know when to move one, and where: to follow holy as I have never before.<br /><br />break.down.<br />Ignorance threatening terror - but these words are of the most delicious of all.<br />If I know Him who whispers them,<br />The One who brings our bodies up with His, through sin - brokenness - and blood,<br />The One who crushes walls - no matter the magnificence, to get to you - to me.<br /><br />craving: the frankness of one's insidious sin,<br />Death to be risen,<br />And Grace, the soothing balm to mend the ache.<br />I dance, limping - contented sways of hip to the Master's hum.<br /><br />break.down -<br />by violent crash,<br />or Lover's potent whisper,<br />into the sweetest Landing of this World.<br /><br />And be<br /><br />all. swept. up.<br /><br /><br /><br />- with Em and others<br />much peace.<br /><center><a href="http://canvaschild.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQHrnKHKsy4oM6B_6HEKcwrfIU5fy2WYhnniKTVwGeAd1kjIEI1XKhPVXEDJvfTEvluydj2r2HhnVBVsGar3syKGvxsJ2HF3Q8ig91VRSYmHW04MR602T8XzEQdF6tlgbxljy/s1600/blog+button.jpg" /></a></center>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-89399360231308083522010-12-29T15:19:00.004-05:002011-01-06T18:59:05.937-05:00[FULL]<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEgPwu9XFsGAeZhHtP2bn7vLmKguhjTJcDcXx0-uC0P9pdo6TIedjxfyLKe-J0ecM1dWirCVjerJTtt_ClIa2tkPia-rjLfaBO4gI11_4p8wct0IUok2HYqVL2tWHDgGH4Atj/s1600/IMG_5081.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556205453576680530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEgPwu9XFsGAeZhHtP2bn7vLmKguhjTJcDcXx0-uC0P9pdo6TIedjxfyLKe-J0ecM1dWirCVjerJTtt_ClIa2tkPia-rjLfaBO4gI11_4p8wct0IUok2HYqVL2tWHDgGH4Atj/s400/IMG_5081.JPG" /></a><br /><br />full.<br />yep, I'm full: of Christmas food and gifts (oh, the resolutions that will come of this...), and WORD - as I say "thank You, thank You" in the darkness lit by candlelight.<br /><br />my eyes have been renewed - and I see them standing there, finally in His presence - in Light. and I say 'thank You, thank You'<br /><br />Emmanuel, filler of space hidden in darkness. Lighter of hearts cold and longing.<br />The fullness of God - miracle of Incarnation, in this inconsequential village on a lakeside. Incarnating, again and again - so we light canldles, warm at their flickers and sing "Joy'.<br /><br />we adore Thee.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-14602975546687321682010-11-29T22:24:00.005-05:002010-11-29T23:06:24.652-05:00taking in the trash.Okay.<br />I am going to confess. I've had a wish, a tiny dream: of all things, for a trashcan.<br />A nice stainless steel one, that's bigger than the tiny thing I have under the sink.<br />But, j'ai une petite budget - and a nice trash can, would be a splurge.<br />Who would spend gobs on a trash can!? I have been tempted no doubt....<br />Only a Fool.<br /><br />But today, when I got home from a trip to see my parents - there it was at the bottom of my stairs - newish, just the size I had researched, and stainless-beautiful-steel! Cast away because it was broken at the hinge - but oh, so fixable!<br /><br />I actually jumped out of my car - and thanked God. yep, I was wooping in the drive...<br />Speaking praises to the One who already knows I like stainless best. And that some of you like plastic, and others have never thought of such a thing.<br />The Lover who pours His God-Fool love and grace out over broken, trash cast-offs and aways.<br /><br />Fixer-up, never-giver-upper.<br />Today, I'm so thankful for all the many ways He loves the rumpled and shines up the dull.<br />Woot!<br /><br /><br /><center><a href=”http://www.aholyexperience.com/” mce_href=”http://www.aholyexperience.com/”><img alt=”holy experience” src=”http://i242.photobucket.com/albums/ff162/annvoskamp/subalbumone/multitudesonmondaysbutton.jpg” mce_src=”http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/ann%20voskamp/mondaybutton2.png” title=”holy experience”/></a></center>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-57800799637340943152010-11-19T12:10:00.005-05:002010-11-19T22:40:17.556-05:00the light of Life.It's snowing and I have my rain boots on<br />and I smile thinking about this:<br />If I were at work, I would be thinking - assessing, 'wow, this person is not dressed appropriately'<br />and make judgement. Intervene.<br /><br />Hee =) I'm nobody's patient today, under the scrutiny of my Holy God who loves me.<br />Today, these boots are just bringing me joy - these hand-me-downs with diamonds and hearts.<br />I smile.<br /><br />My uncle is sort of a legend when it comes to duck-boots, and I'm not trying to perpetuate that... I'm not for annointing rubberboots.<br />But, I'm thinking about His gifting Self. How those silly boots are a gift. How He brings joy. How He bestows the simplest treasures only a fool child's eyes can see and heart can hold.<br /><br />I giggle at sparkley things. I keep bubbles in my purse.<br />I like to laugh, really loud and hearty - until tears come, because why laugh just a little when you mean it.<br />And I love Jesus Christ.<br />Because I'm overcome in His foolish love.<br /><br />He says He's the light of life. And that the dark in us and of us, doesn't get it. The laughing Messiah who brings joy in the midst of real sorrows. How can a chuckle cast away all of our fear-stained longing for change?<br />His smile weighs hearty in the victory celebration of the soul. His hand slaps to His side to the rhythmic clap of my boots that call out to puddles to jump in, though the day is sunny - melting the white.<br />He laughs for His Kingdom is come, and there is joy. Though tears still stain our faces, and pain will pierce our hearts, and times are unhappy - the Joy King sows seeds of His Kingdom in the simple and blinds us with light that makes us know and grow in joy.<br /><br /><object width="300" height="250"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6QsR-D1HYnk?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6QsR-D1HYnk?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="300" height="250"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:130%;">Please join me dear ones, and sharing a joy treasure or two.</span></em><br /><p><em><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">much peace.</span></p></span></em><br /><br /><br />(P.S. It's over half November, and who wants to contain Christmas-ness any longer? Not moi.)<br /><br /><br /><right><a href="http://canvaschild.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQHrnKHKsy4oM6B_6HEKcwrfIU5fy2WYhnniKTVwGeAd1kjIEI1XKhPVXEDJvfTEvluydj2r2HhnVBVsGar3syKGvxsJ2HF3Q8ig91VRSYmHW04MR602T8XzEQdF6tlgbxljy/s1600/blog+button.jpg" /></a></right>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-84669745673564392132010-11-05T09:23:00.003-04:002010-11-29T22:41:50.358-05:00no more want.my life consists of the fluttering of paper.<br /><br />the pages of Word,<br />the print-outs of new knowledge - of ideas,<br />of observations,<br />of inspired hopes,<br />of disillusioned reality.<br /><br />I am reading, reading, reading - for Life, for work, searching for conceptualization of what will become my thesis.<br />What will be hours, blood, sweat, strain and passion: poured over in conversation and rumninated over in the mind;<br />What will begin to describe current reality and hope of future.<br /><br />He helps me climb, what seems insurmountable. Right now, I just climb up from my knees and open my hands to open the pages, and open my mind and heart to embrace His way. No farther than He guides, no more vision than Hope. No more want than His peace.<br /><br />This is my journey prayer.<br />Amen.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-14631601230455941982010-11-01T16:56:00.002-04:002010-11-04T10:56:37.017-04:00woolying up.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQS3KVOZC7lcTQVaB3dZZEvidt_xDC8pTxvwAJEhN2PHzo_PLfXQjO8Obk-q_H44YEvGuqjbNCDSVMGTwV2t_wdlh29NB7uhUnRnIVrRcd-MyXtcse7NULNuc-tvS1ONDOlM9/s1600/untitled6.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 137px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534688409277368658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQS3KVOZC7lcTQVaB3dZZEvidt_xDC8pTxvwAJEhN2PHzo_PLfXQjO8Obk-q_H44YEvGuqjbNCDSVMGTwV2t_wdlh29NB7uhUnRnIVrRcd-MyXtcse7NULNuc-tvS1ONDOlM9/s200/untitled6.bmp" /></a><br />the air is cool<br />leaves mostly on the ground,<br />wet from early snow,<br />the others, with colours fading cling to the trees.<br />Winter is coming.<br />guess I'd better wooly up ;)<br /><br /><br />It's November 1st.<br />The first day of the <a href="http://ca.movember.com/">global charity fundraiser</a>, Movember, raising awareness and funds toward Prostate Cancer.<br /><br />Quiet and insidious, prostate cancer can become well developed before becoming (if ever) symptomatic.<br />But, it is effectively detected with routine screening.<br />Many of the men I care for are in the end stages of this disease, which progresses from organ to others, and bone and brain.<br /><br /><br />Love your man.<br />Love men.<br />Embrace the Mo. Grow one if you're able, or compliment someone who can.<br />They may look funny, or hairy, or... creepy,<br />but recall our deep kinship through Christ, care and advocate for them.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31521814.post-37293180908310684012010-10-26T15:45:00.000-04:002010-10-26T16:05:34.883-04:00jubilee.Funny that it started as the day finished,<br />just like that first day:<br />me hearing You. me in full want, grasping Your grace ... just even to remember the anniversary. even to know what day it is.<br />and, yes - the celebrating.<br /><br />Yesterday marked seven years of history,<br />of following,<br />of repeating: running,<br />down,<br />falling,<br />knees,<br />and Your grace, incarnate in history,<br />even still,<br />running down to me on my knees.<br />Your glory, bursting to life a heart wantonly wilted,<br />now willfully surrendered.<br />You and I celebrate. Each day, together.<br /><br /><object width="400" height="250"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ifeJRC5lvhs?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ifeJRC5lvhs?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="250"></embed></object><br /><br />It's Your way,<br />humbled and the cross<br />of entering the celebration of You - Your grace.<br /><br />Seven years. Amen. Seven years.<br />Captive free. Debt cancelled. Amen.Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02656491403330205875noreply@blogger.com7