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A List of 25 Things I’m Loving Right Now

 

 

Things I Love

Life has been a whirlwind in recent months and I don’t see the winds dying down for awhile. So I do what I do…make lists.

I hope some of these things I’m loving right now will resonate with you and perhaps even prompt you to consider your own surroundings along with the many blessings tucked in between your days.

  1. Spacious places. Psalm 18:19 is my go-to verse with this next move. “He brought me out into a spacious place…”
  2. DW Home Hand-Poured Candles. Vanilla Bean, to be specific. I purchased every last one TJ Maxx carried –  to the tune of 35.00+ worth. Yes, they’re that delicious.
  3. Poetry. I love to read it …and write it.
  4. My church. It’s a church that loves well, no matter what.
  5. My great-grandparent’s bible. Its underlined scripture hints at the legacy they would leave behind.
  6. Peppermint Snow. Dee Dee Parker’s Christmas novella that’s sure to be a best-seller one day!
  7. Exchange Coffee. My local coffee shop makes the best lavender lattes, hands down.
  8. Pride & Prejudice, A&E version with Colin Firth. And only this version. Swoon-worthy.
  9. The original scent of Downy softener. It reminds me of my grandmother’s laundry days.
  10. A charm bracelet with each of my grandchildren’s names forged on a separate heart. {They are my heart.}
  11. Vintage VW vans. Because everybody has a little hippie in them!
  12. My well-loved cookbooks.
  13. Blogging. Absolutely. Love. It.
  14. Soft breezes on scorching hot days. A reminder that refreshment can rise even on the driest of days.
  15. Owls. Maybe it’s a throwback to the ’70s but I love them.
  16. Tiny houses. {Especially as an Airbnb on our future property!}
  17. Chickens and goats and rabbits, oh my!
  18. Pastures & ponies. These two ‘p’s’ equal a third: Peaceful.
  19. My bible. I’ve had it since 1991. Its pages paper-thin and lovingly marked.
  20. White walls, chalkboards, and Mason jars decor. {Does that count for 3?}
  21. Girl gatherings. It’s been a while since I’ve hosted one of these but once we get moved preparest thou!
  22. Chenille blankets. Vintage chenille blankets. Soft, warm, and plush comfort. {Especially on snowy days.}
  23. The way my grandchildren smile when we first see them. {Be still my heart.}
  24. Music. The gift of music meanders its way through the soul like nothing else.
  25. Rainy days when I don’t have to be anywhere. Showers falling, coffee in hand, and a good book. {Exhale.}
Do any of the above items trigger your own love-fest? I’d love to read 25 things you love, so if you decide to do the same on your blog please let me know.  Even if you decide not to publicly share your list, I encourage you to make it anyway.
It will do the soul good. Very good.

Did I happen to mention the cupcakes at Exchange Coffee?
Did I happen to mention the cupcakes at Exchange Coffee? Okay, that makes 26.

When Poetry and Promises Mingle

Poetry and Promises

Nothing mingles quite like poetry and promises. We see how beautifully they marry in the Bible, especially throughout the book of Psalms, which consists of 150 lyric poems. But Psalms also has a treasure hold on God’s promises.

During the month of April we’ll weave our way through this lyrical, non-rhyming, and foundational book, allowing its poetry and promises to encourage us…so that we might encourage others.

He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. Psalm 23:2

Psalm 23 holds a special place in my life. In the weeks prior to my uncle’s death (he was in his early 50’s) I would drive over and spend my mornings with him a few times each week. In addition to the cancer invading his body he was also blind. It was for this reason he always enjoyed it when I read to him. He loved passages on heaven but often requested his favorite psalm, Psalm 23. By the time I reached the sixth verse, I could hear his breathing shifting to a slower pace. The peace surrounding him was almost palpable.

 

God’s promises are powerful to the living, but they are a life preserver to the dying.

 

Phillip Keller’s A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 is a tremendous resource in learning more about the relationship between sheep (us) and the shepherd (Jesus). One of my favorite insights from his book is when he points out that sheep are the most useless, and dare I say, stupid animals. {Ouch!} He also shared how it’s almost impossible to get sheep to lie down and rest. Most refuse unless four requirements are met:

  1. They must sense a freedom from fear.
  2. They must sense freedom from tension with other sheep.
  3. They must sense freedom from aggravation from flies and.or parasites.
  4. They must sense freedom from hunger.

I don’t know about you but I see a lot of myself in the above four requirements. Countless hours of rest have been deprived over fears I’ve struggled with for years, or tension between myself and another person, or just the nit picky things that aggravate the fool out of me. Hunger? Never! {I wish.}

Psalm 23Whatever keeps you up at night or steals your God-given right to rest in the middle of the day is yet another reminder that we need a Shepherd, a good Shepherd.

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” John 10:11

I recently struggled with some emotions that I knew were not God-glorifying. I pushed them down below the next item on my to-do list and continued on, knowing I’d have to deal with them at some point. The emotions, and the thoughts that go with them, continued to distract me for days. I finally made my way up the stairs with my Bible in hand and had a “come to Jesus” meeting right there in the window overlooking the city. I feel sure that some passersby thought I was talking to a ghost. Silly people. I was talking with my Father.

Immediately following, my soul experienced a rest it had not enjoyed for days. My Shepherd forgave me, revealed truth to me, and comforted me. The city pace below us was hectic but my soul was at rest beside the still waters of grace in His presence.

The gift of poetry and His promises assured my uncle that his true rest was right around the corner, his joy, just a breath away. And isn’t this true for us all?

What is your favorite verse in Psalm 23, and why? Please share in the comment section below. Blessings to you!

The beautiful artwork used for my Poetry and Promises graphic is courtesy of Ann Marie Bone. Please visit her Facebook fan page to connect with her and to see more of her amazing work. Thank you so much, Ann.

When Fall Beauty Prompts Perpetual Poetry

 

It’s no coincidence that my hubster and I refer to the month of October as the month o’ love. We love everything about it! We were even married on the side of a mountain during the month of October (Pretty Place, Greenville SC).

Every open weekend during the month we plan a getaway. Sometimes it’s an overnight stay but often it’s day trips. One of my favorite day-trip destinations is Carl Sandburg’s home, perched atop a hill in Flat Rock, NC.

This past weekend we took a hike around the front lake, the one that sits at the bottom of the hill, below his home. The crimson-threaded leaves embraced the lake as if they were saying a final farewell, at least for now.

Could Carl Sandburg have been sitting on his front stoop, observing the same breathtaking views, as he penned Autumn Movement?

(It was a foggy morning but if you look carefully you can see Connemara at the top of the hill.)

Autumn Movement,
by Carl Sandburg

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

 

 

 

What will you miss the most with the passing of Fall? 

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven…
Ecclesiastes 3:1

 

A Poet’s Nod to Autumn – Mary Oliver’s Fall Song

Poetry done well has a way of meandering its way into one’s soul. It moves us, inviting us to observe life from a fresh perspective. Mary Oliver is my favorite poet. Every time I read her work I want to grab paper and pen. Every. Single. Time. She inspires me—and I believe she will inspire you as well, which is why I’m sharing her Fall Song with you today.
 
Be sure to add your favorite line to the comment section!

 

 

Fall Song

Another year gone, leaving everywhere
its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,

the uneaten fruits crumbling damply
in the shadows, unmattering back

from the particular island
of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere

except underfoot, moldering
in that black subterranean castle

of unobservable mysteries – roots and sealed seeds
and the wanderings of water. This

I try to remember when time’s measure
painfully chafes, for instance when autumn

flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing
to stay – how everything lives, shifting

from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures.
– Mary Oliver

The Fragrance of Love: Poetry, Mary Oliver, and Owls

by Cathy Baker

I LOVE poetry, Mary Oliver, and yes, owls. 

So imagine my delight when all three loves were realized in one particular poem.

Whether you’re a lover of poetry or not, I encourage you to read Mary Oliver’s poem slowly. Simply find one line that you enjoy, one description that makes you smile.

Little Owl Who Lives in the Orchards
by Mary Oliver
His beak could open a bottle,
and his eyes—when he lifts their soft lids—
go on reading something
just beyond your shoulder—
Blake, maybe,
or the Book of Revelation. 
Never mind that he eats only
the black-smocked crickets,
and dragonflies if they happen
to be out late over the ponds, and of course
the occasional festal mouse.
Never mind that he is only a memo
from the offices of fear—
it’s not size but surge that tells us
when we’re in touch with something real,
and when I hear him in the orchard
fluttering
down the little aluminum
ladder of his scream—
when I see his wings open, like two black ferns,
a flurry of palpitations
as cold as sleet
rackets across the marshlands
of my heart,
like a wild spring day. 
Somewhere in the universe,
in the gallery of important things,
the babyish owl, ruffled and rakish,
sits on its pedestal.
Dear, dark dapple of plush!
A message, reads the label,
from the mysterious conglomerate:
Oblivion and Co.
The hooked head stares
from its blouse of dark, feathery lace.
It could be a valentine.
In tomorrow’s post, I’m sharing an opportunity to win a little something that might help you in making your own notes of observation for poetry, prose, and life.
But for now, I’d love to know the word or line that resonated with you most today!

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