Changing

Every day is a miracle. Today it was the drive to work. If I would have imagined hard enough, I could have pulled back gently on the wheel and floated up to tumble though the clouds. Mystical, magical, majestic clouds. Into a world of mixed contrasts: light and dark, sanguine and melancholy, stormy and calm. Willow-y wisps caressed towering grandeur. But today I was earth-bound. So I explored the clouds' footprints and watched them play cloud-games and do the hula laugh. Through the aged sunlit fields, under the arching burnished trees. The light and shadows drifted here and there, ever changing as they went. Dynamic-ism!

All the foliage was tired. But, strikingly, it didn't care. Rather it reveled in its ancientness; enjoyed it, even.  How? People always seem to dread getting old. They loose their beauty; but perhaps they're blind to the new beauty ancientness has given them.

Two Thoughts

No one is completely open-minded. And I doubt anyone is completely close-minded. Are you open-minded enough to accept your close-mindedness?

Now onto a different thought, here's a beautiful paragraph from the Max Lucado Daily, titled "The Same Hands."

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” (Revelation 21:4) Someday God will wipe away your tears. The same hands that stretched the heavens will touch your cheeks. The same hands that formed the mountains will caress your face. The same hands that curled in agony as the Roman spike cut through will someday cup your face and brush away your tears.

More Questions Than Answers

"Hey, how are doing?

"Fine, and you?"

"Pretty good."

Really. 

It's a knee jerk reaction. Of course I'm fine, what else would I be? Everything is always "fine." There is no such thing as pain or sorrow or depression or confusion. Yeah, right. And nothing ever goes wrong, does it.

Have you ever told someone that your life is falling apart, or that you are depressed and you don't know why? Has anyone ever replied to you in that way? Why can't I look at things the way they really are and say things the way they really are? 

Sometimes I'm scared of myself. I used to think I had a pretty good idea of who I was. Right now I have no idea. Sure, I know my personality and my interests, but why do I react this way, when everyone else seems to react a different way? Why do I say the things I do?  Or more aptly, why don't I say the things I don't say? Lol. I really don't know, but I know Someone who does.

No, right now everything is not going perfectly. But I'm not worried. When I admit to a problem, God can work with it. When I admit I need help, I can accept help. Between God, the exquisite thoughts He sends,  prayers, and friends, it is impossible to not succeed.

Word by Word

Finishing an enthralling book always fills me with elation. The rush to devour each chapter is over. A million and one ideas swirl through my mind; a million and one perspectives and experiences to digest. So much to learn from: people's reactions and interactions, different life styles, healing wounds, breaking hearts, humour in spite of hurt, and always an obstacle to conquer. The intoxication subsides after awhile, and I wonder at the journey through someone else's imagination. Fifty thousand words, maybe a hundred thousand, weaving an imaginary plot in an imaginary world.

Less Is More

I admire people who can say much with few words. Simple is profound. And now I shall likely disregard my preferences and ramble for awhile. When someone speaks simply and succinctly, their thoughts stay with me. When they don't, on the other hand, I have to sort and sift to find the point, and in the mean time, I've forgotten what they've said, and do you suppose this would be considered a run-on sentence?

I thought I was looking forward to winter. Apparently I was deceived.

I was rummaging in my closet, and suddenly, quite un-biddenly, a winter glove jumped out and plopped onto the floor. Shudder! I closed my eyes to the hateful thing. I've really enjoyed summer, and I'm ready for autumn , but please, no winter quite yet! By the time the snow starts flying I'll probably embrace it whole-heartedly, but just think of bundling up every time you head outside...

Mango Twilight

It happened a couple months ago and I don't know why I waited, but the time is... now.

Ironically, it was because the electric storm thwarted our electricity that I found myself relaxing: witnessing the most amazing light show I have ever seen.

The sun was heading for brighter lands. The thunder still sounded in the distance, the rain was still softly falling, and the last of the dilated orange sun dangled a rainbow in the evening sky. The clouds overhead soon stopped their weeping and the sun slipped out of sight. Something lingered. Elusive light mingled around. I thought it was bright - until I tried to see. I thought it was dark - until I soaked up the glow. Everything was drenched in orange light. Long ago should the land and sky have been dark, but they refused to be. On and on it lasted. And on and on I watched. The trees, the sky, the clouds, the grass, the fresh rain; all were saturated in light. But the source was gone. It was half-light. No shadows, no glare, no distinct light or dark; nothing describes it better than glow.

The earth slowly diffused its light and the program ended. I think the answer lies in the clouds, quite literally. The clouds that initially covered the sun were the same clouds that reflected the sun's rays long after I could see them. In the simplest sense, they were a mirror. 

I always knew I liked indirect lighting.