The month of May - filled with instances of graduation. Ending of one phase of life and the beginning of the next part of the adventure. IF a person has come this far, then now is the time to think of what might be next. Rudyard Kipling helps to put these things into perspective.
"The moon is a stone; but it is a highly numinous stone. Or, to be more precise, it is a stone about which and because of which men and women have numinous feelings. Thus, there is a soft moonlight that can give us the peace that passes understanding. There is a moonlight that inspires a kind of awe. There is a cold and austere moonlight that tells the soul of its loneliness and desperate isolation, its insignificance or its uncleanness. There is an amorous moonlight prompting to love — to love not only for an individual but sometimes even for the whole universe."
(from the book Music At Night and other essays)
nu·mi·nous /ˈn(y)o͞omənəs/ adjective
; having a strong religious or spiritual quality; indicating or suggesting the presence of a divinity.
She is one of two stars of the British series, "As Time Goes By" - about two young lovers who allow the serendipitous misposting of a love letter from Korea to keep them from following their hearts - and many years later find themselves once again courting love the second time around.
I was coming home from plant shopping with my sister on Mother’s Day when I noticed people walking into my property as I was driving toward the house. I was about a half mile away from the property, so I couldn’t see who it was. Initial thoughts were that I had caught someone trying to hop the fence into the backyard.
When I pulled up to my property and tried to see who was invading my space, I had to laugh. It was my neighbor’s daughter Brooke, her husband Kyle, and their son Ryder. I rolled down the window and said hello.
“We were just looking into your back yard. A wild turkey just flew into it,” Brooke said. We started laughing and joking about the whole thing. I pulled around the house into the driveway and decided to begin the search for the turkey.
The saga of the garden shed is a story in itself. First there was a metal shed with sliding doors that dad and my granddad assembled – only they didn’t quiet follow instructions and it was about a foot shorter in width than it should have been. Dad never said much about it after it was built; the “short shed” was always a reminder to “read the instructions” from that point on.
It got old, and rusty, and dad had to tear it down in order to make way for the two-car garage he was having built. So after the garage was built, he had one of those Amish outbuildings brought onto the property to hold garden tools and other stuff. It had two windows, hunter green shutters, and two front doors closed at the center and trimmed in the same hunter green.
And then, he died.
Spring. The world reborn. How beautiful the world must have been when it was a new creation if the beauty it currently has is so breathtaking...
The birds of the heavens
and the fish of the sea,
Whatever passes through the paths of the seas.
O LORD, our Lord, How majestic is your name in all the earth.
Music: Paul Cardall, "New Creation"
How can I possibly celebrate Mother’s Day, when it’s a day that reminds me of all that I have lost?
And yet, it’s also a reminder of all that I was given. With every memory of her, You reminded me that she’s as close as You are. I can be close to her only when I draw close to You.
Recently I had interaction with someone who was trying to alter facets of my job but who neglected to discuss the proposal with me. Now granted, the person was within their rights to pursue developments and changes based upon their views and discussions with others. Nevertheless, professionalism -- and just plain common courtesy -- dictates that one should necessarily consider the proposals with the one doing the lion's share of the work -- which was me.
But they did not.
At the end of a full week, it was fun to sit back in my chair at my desk and be whisked off to the Magic Kingdom at Walt Disney World and watch the premiere of Disney's new fireworks show. This show replaces Wishes, which will always be my favorite nighttime fireworks display.
“Critics who treat ‘adult’ as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. And in childhood and adolescence they are, in moderation, healthy symptoms. Young things ought to want to grow. But to carry on into middle life or even into early manhood this concern about being adult is a mark of really arrested development. When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”
— C.S. Lewis
“As long as the earth endures,
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
summer and winter,
day and night
will never cease.”
Genesis 8:22 (NIV)
To me, this is the sound of worship... I'm guessing there are not many churches in this country that display music of this caliber.
from Poems, Quotes, Words
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
- Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)
"It's hard for me to say,
I'm jealous of the way
you're happy without me."
Beautiful rendition of the Labrinth ballad, "Jealous" by Taps Mugadza
I wrote about them before on my blog.
And yes, I've probably been too snarky about them, and should probably just ignore them.
But it bothers me when a church seems to go too far to scratch people where they itch - or seem to say, "Hey, we're no different than anyone else and we're certainly not as stuffy as that old-fashioned gathering of persimmons down the road."
The horizon lights up
Swirls of pink and orange
Fading to blue and purple
Few bother to look anymore
At a blessing
That only comes once a day
Each sunset is different
No two exactly alike
Difference flows throughout
While it is the only similarity
Over the ocean
Or through the sky scrapers
Out on the prairie
Or in an apartment
You can still see a piece
A piece of something
Something never to return
For the colors are shimmering
For a moment they stay
Only to disappear into change
Change just as beautiful as the last
This is why
No matter where you go
One thing remains the same,
A difference in sunsets
In your very own sunset