The Mavericks - Blue moon

Blue Moon

To Begin the Begin

Rain falls steady
this Christmas morn--
snowman leans
while
house sleeps
white Christmas is
washing away.
thousands of
tiny beads of light
glisten on
my window
outside
wind blows
branches fall
O electricity!
outside
wings flutter, spray;
bathe in melted snow
they
need
their
Christmas feast.
the air is heavy--
i feel the wet
in my lungs.
mist snakes
around feet,
ground
freshly thawed
and it slips
from my hand--
insignificant,
overlooked
seed
sinks
in newly stirred
mud
where it will be
cradled
until spring
when hard shell
softens and
life
bursts forth.
This
is the beginning
of
Christmas.


Written in response to L.L. Barkat's "Beginnings" writing project. It's not too late to enter for a chance to win a lovely book.

Firstfruits

Time to count the Christmas Change!

Our total collection this season came to $98.50. Plus a few extra bonus items.

After scrounging around the house for spare change, we added $1.50 to round out the total to $100!

We decided to split the money in half--giving $50 to Worlvision and $50 to our local food pantry.

Amazing what those forgotten piles of spare change add up to. Amazing what we can give out of our abundance.

As small hands sorted change and tallied its value this morning, I was pleased that we were so close to our goal.


But we can do more.

God requires more.  He asks me to give, not out of abundance, but out of faith. He asks for my firstfruits. When I give Him all that I hold in my hands, I say to Him, I trust You to fill my arms again.

Collecting spare change is good stewardship…but it hardly stretched my faith. It did not require me to step out of my comfort zone. And for that, I am not proud.

We are so blessed.

It’s time to start blessing others.

Because He is good. He is trustworthy. And He will provide for all our needs.

We are still deciding how to give out of faith…trying to determine what the giving of our firstfruits looks like.

May it be pleasing to Him.

Christmas Feast

Last Minute Gifts, A Project and Some More Introductions

A perfect gift for grandma:

I took these pictures of my nieces last Easter. Simple profiles, carefully cut out.

I trace the pictures on some lovely paper. I choose complimentary patterns. (Lowes gave me several expired wallpaper books a few years ago when I was teaching our neighborhood kids about collage).

Pretty picture frames...

And, voila! Sweet little silhouette miniatures!

In other last minute business...

I would like to give you the gift of introducing you to some amazing writers.

Ann (without the "e") Voskamp needs little introduction to many of you. A visit to her blog is truly A Holy Experience. This woman's beautiful heart shines.

Another Ann...Kroeker, that is. She is our family content editor over at High Calling Blogs, and recently published a mother must-read: Not So Fast.


Linda Chontos...I have learned so much about grace from this precious lady. A beautiful spirit.

If beauty is your thing, go visit Nancy. Poetry and photography grace her place. Such glory to God in her words.

Deb is my soul-sister. Her writing is achingly vulnerable and speaks to my heart.

Sarah--another poet-heart.

Kelly--photographer-mama, word artist.

A Simple Country girl, is so much more than that.

Jennifer, at Getting Down With Jesus. This journalist/teacher/mamma writes from the heart.

And then there is Elaine. This sweet preacher' wife wears her faith-walk like the finest of gems.

I have been blessed each time I visit these ladies. And I know you will be too.

Merry Christmas, Beloveds. I count you among my finest blessings.

 

This Morning I Wondered

This morning I wondered
as I watched the birds
through my window--
savored that first sip
of coffee…
Did the earth
gasp
on
the day
He
was born?
When His
first cries pierced
the air
was there a long
sigh--
A sharp
exhale?
Did all of nature
know?
And did the rocks
cry out?
On this bleak
Winter Solstice morning,
As earth turns her
face
away
from light
and darkness descends…
I hold on
to this
glimmer
this twinkling thought:
that all of earth knew
except us.

Snowed In: Maureen Doallas

This heavy snow-carpet covers our world, swathing us in white and giving permission to shelter-in.

Winter music feeds hungry places and I sit here, soaking in quiet as snow absorbs the roar of seasonal noise. It cushions, insulates and becomes a falling poem.



The heart turns inside and the sehnsucht awakens. Beauty does this…stirs hunger…awakens the need for more.

So I fly. Through cable portal, through air and time. And, seeking beauty, I land here.

It is the home of Maureen Doallas’s blog, Writing Without Paper.

I often visit here when looking to go beyond myself. She never disappoints. This art-loving, entrepreneurial poet has known success and loss, joy and grief. She shares these experiences eloquently--always giving the right words.

And they are a gift, received with gratitude.

Glynn’s post here tells more about Maureen. It's an interesting read. She’s had quite the life-journey-- and, as she puts it: I’m not done yet.

When she told me a bit about herself, Maureen said, “Words matter a great deal to me.”

It shows in her work. Her poetry is arresting.

"I had not written much poetry for many years," she says, "as I noted in a post a short while ago. I returned to writing poetry when my brother became ill with cancer. The poetry was my most effective way of understanding what my brother, my family, and I were experiencing while my brother was ill and at the time of his death this past May and thereafter..."

Maureen goes on to say, “I think one can 'get' me best by sampling my writing, especially my poetry…”

I agree. I’d like to feature a couple of her pieces here, just to give you a taste, but a visit to her blog will satisfy your need for beauty.

Friends, Maureen Doallas:

This Thing Called Grief

(this is not the entire poem, just a sample)

II

Grief's a shiv

in the heart, held

like free verse

rocking in the mouth

as a mother her babe

rocks lullingly

forth and back

meaning to repeat

the patterned

picking up and putting down

of solid markers

drawn like the longest

lines in the palms

of the hands

twinned to

close up to open out

till life and death

fold in

along skin-cracks

in the core that

once more

begins to heal

with the air you take in

Thanks Given

We were nine.

We were eight.

We are seven.

We were together.

We are apart.

We were mother and father,

five daughters,

two sons:

Together. One.

Apart

In Virginia and Florida,

New York and Tennessee,

in Georgia

We were a family.

We are a family

come together

with spirit,

with ghost

Eyes looking down,

looking up,

looking out

To a hillside in Arlington,

to a headstone in Venice:

Two to make

seven into nine.

Lips pressing thank yous

on shadows of air

breathed in breathed out

paused

To save

for blessings

round tables

Together,

apart,

As one.

Copyright © 2009 Maureen E. Doallas. All Rights Reserved.

This post is part of the High Calling Blogs 12 Days of Community Posts:

Related posts:

Day one: A Gift Community
Day two: Glynn Young
Day three: Leslie Leyland Fields
Day four: Christmas Change
Day five: Mother Waiting
Day six:  Meet Monica
Day seven: Poetry Lady

Catching Up

The days of Advent are quickly disappearing. Here are a few things that have been keeping our family busy:


Jeffrey finally got braces.

Before

After

Argus had his stitches removed.

Before

After

Our church had the annual party for some area foster children.

Gifts line the pews, ready for the giving.

The Christmas Change jar is filling up.

We had our party with the Spinal Cord Injury Support Group.

There have also been warm dinners with friends, filling Advent Bible readings, and a bit of harried shopping! Here is praying that your Advent is filling with sweet memories too.

Blessings from the Boggesses.

Day Seven: Our Own Poetry Lady

 Today, in my 12 days of Community offering, I honor a very special lady. I call her my poetry teacher. But she teaches me so much more. Through the community of High Calling Blogs she has become a valued friend. In her honor, I am re-running my review of her memoir, Stone Crossings. A read well-worth featuring more than once.

***************************************

As a child, I escape into the creek bed. No one can touch me here. It is a haven where I curl my bare, sun-browned toes into wet clay. I am hidden…

So begins L.L. Barkat’s story in her book Stone Crossings: Finding Grace in Hard and Hidden Places.

We follow this willowy child; skip from stone to stone with her along her faith journey--hop along beside as she stretches and is stretched…growing in grace along the way.


conversion—shame—suffering—resistance—doubt—fear—love—sacrifice—responsibility—gratitude—humility—healing—forgiveness—witness—heaven…


These are a few of the stepping stones that Barkat uses to navigate us through her story.


But this is no ordinary run-of-the-mill memoir.


This story of healing weaves in and out of a Higher One, reveals to each one of us how our stories are thread offerings—intertwining within the Greatest Story Ever Told.


I read Stone Crossings with Bible in hand—challenged to see anew well-worn scripture-stories, and dig deeper into the heart of these Words.


Jonah--given to us as a dove (his name means dove, which was a sin offering)—allows his fear of death to rule him; the tabernacle is painted as God’s heart; Moses’ forfeiture of entrance to the Promised Land is…freedom?


These and other tellings reveal the true depth of God’s Word; give my heart a new yearning as I see the familiar with different eyes.


L.L., who was deeply wounded as a child, discusses her difficulty believing in love as a young woman. Yet now, she is able to speak freely of God the Lover from Song of Songs:

Whereas some people wait for the day they can climb into the lap of God the Father, and others ache to lean on his strong shepherd-shoulders, I anticipate the day when God the lover will hold me forever in a passionate and safe embrace.

Is anyone else swooning?


Perhaps the part of the book that spoke to me most in this season of my life was the chapters on Sacrifice and Responsibility. L.L. speaks of sacrificing her desires for that of her family, and how God spoke to her through this:

Tending sheep is a mundane job. It is a lot of same old, same old—the way we feed kids breakfast, lunch and dinner, or drive to the office and deal with the same people day after day. It is repetitive, like building a stone wall rock by rock across the landscape. So it’s easy for us to over look the power of small acts that are folded again and again into the meandering swish of common love.

Along this vein, L.L. goes on to wonder, …would I be a good king or a bad king if I had the choice?

This pondering leads her to conclude:

We are each like little kings privileged with a patch of ground, even if it’s less than a quarter-acre, like mine, and more likely to grow dandelions than a vineyard. We each hold a scepter of influence…in relationship to someone, or a group of people, or even God, who all spy eagerly to see what our face and voice will reveal. We are each, to put it simply, responsible in our blessedness…

These words inspire me to tend my vineyard well. I know I shouldn’t need one, but these words serve as a reminder that I should do all for Him; that my family is a most sacred gift from Him and I am privileged to be one of its stewards.


In her own words, L.L. describes Stone Crossings:  

Grace. That's the centerpiece of Stone Crossings, shared through the hard and hidden places of my life and the Bible.


In sun-dappled creekbeds and strawberry fields, in the dark belly of a whale and on parched desert plains, grace makes surprising appearances. Along the way, it calls, “Where have you been, where are you now, where do you want to be?” Then it gives strength to answer, to hope and to heal.”

L.L. just released her new poetry book, InsideOut, for the poetry lover in you. I cannot wait to unwrap this little gem on Christmas morning. 

Related Posts:

Day one: A Gift Community
Day two: Glynn Young
Day three: Leslie Leyland Fields
Day four: Christmas Change
Day five: Mother Waiting
Day six:  Meet Monica

 

Day Six: Meet Monica (and the bloggy winner is...)

Today I would like to introduce you to a very special lady. Monica Sharman has been one of my bloggy buddies since way back. Her amazing heart for God shines in all she does. She is an active participant in High Calling Blogs Randam Acts of Poetry (RAP), the book club posts, and she also enjoys a good twitter poetry party! 

I asked Monica to tell me a little about herself. Here, in her own words, are some things she would like to share with you.

…I guess many details of my life would fall into these four areas.


Knowledge. By which I meant knowledge of God. My deepest desire is to know God and to always be growing in intimacy with Him….Know-Love-Obey God—these are the Big Three in what I call the “Intimacy-with-God Whirlpool,” reflecting my deepest desire: to know God more and more intimately.


Solitude. I love solitude times. I guess because they are great times ofintimacy with God!


Friendships. This one goes pretty deep. To the point where I confessed that I loved people more than God---the core sin of which the symptoms are loneliness and having a fear of losing friends. God did a big pruning in me regarding this recently. Long story. I posted on it as a kind of public confession, I guess.

Influence People. By which I mean influencing people to know God better, especially through His Word.


I absolutely love to do Bible study and teaching. Currently this is to the 5th grade Sunday school class (co-teaching w/Charles), a neighborhood women's Bible study, a women's Bible study at church, and one of my sons (age 11).


I am very intentional about setting aside solitude time and vigilantly protecting my time with family.

Charles is my best friend and the one God uses most to help me in my walk with Christ.


I spend a lot of time maintaining/growing friendships, reading, writing children's fiction, singing/playing on worship team, cooking, and way too many hobbies. :)

I am really, really grateful for the HCB community. Lots of beautiful, gentle, kind, gracious, iron-sharpening, metally stimulating, welcoming, intelligent, encouraging, tons-of-fun people.

Monica is married to Charles and they have three beautiful boys--all together they make the “Sharman five”. Monica home schools her children and has some great resources for doing so over here.

Go visit Monica and give her some love! Tell her Laura sent you.

(This post is part of my 12 days of Community posts. Head over to HCB to learn more about why you should promote someone other than yourself this holiday!)


Related posts:

Day one: A Gift Community
Day two: Glynn Young
Day three: Leslie Leyland Fields
Day four: Christmas Change
Day five: Mother Waiting


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And, the bloggy winner is...

Faye, from Just Something Nanna Made. Faye wins a copy of  Leslie Leyland Fields' book, Parenting is Your Highest Calling and Eight Other Myths That Trap Us in Worry and Guilt. Faye is a proud grandma, but I think maybe someone on her Christmas list may enjoy this book. Faye, send me your snail mail and I'll have Leslie send the book ASAP!

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Yesterday, one of my posts was featured at Christmas Change. Go check it out! It's a great place for ideas about how to make your Christmas more about Christ.


I'm also over at HCB today, for our latest book club discussion. Come join in the fun.

Mother-waiting

The wind roars and trees sing out their song-dance as they shed their final trappings and become angel-nymphs, reaching up to God, raising hands in praise.

Leaf confetti fills the air--and watching, I can barely breath for swells of love that lift and swirl, sweeping me into heaven--soaring.

I am baking cookies.

I daydream that when the boys come home from school, they will sniff this sugar-perfumed-air and slyly move to the oven-top where sweetness waits…their baby fingers and growing bellies that have been fed from this body, their lanky limbs that they have yet to grow into...

All for them.

I am thinking this and I yearn.

For what, I cannot say, but the wind tears the flag from its pole outside and soon I am chasing this flapping piece of Christmas--running out into the yard with no coat.

Back inside, I put the flag in a drawer. I will wait until this windstorm passes.

I stand, hair rearranged, and gaze out window again--watch this picture of motherhood. This swirling, wracking windstorm.

I wrap arms around chilled body and see it.

This beautiful storm.

And I think of them.

The mothers.

I think of how they too wait. Through beauty, through storms.

And the Advent of motherhood stirs names and faces.

The mother who waits for a new day, as she watches her son mourn a lifelong friend.

The mother who became grandmother; and waits with grace-- carrying the light of Jesus into the midst.


The mother acutely tuned to each pang that may announce birth forthcoming.

The mother waiting to be reunited with a son that will spend this Christmas in a cold jail cell instead of his family’s warm embrace.

The missionary mom, balancing motherhood and a call to a new frontier as she waits for seeds planted to grow.

The mom who waits and believes for healing--as she holds her son through painful procedures and treatments.

I think of the countless mothers who have lost children. The mothers-at-heart who long for a child of their own. And the faithful mothers who watch their children grow, gently wooing them to that day when they will have lives of their own.

And I yearn.

In the yearning is the prayer. And in the prayer is the yearning.

For safe deliveries and Christmas hugs, for healing and reconciliation, for comfort and strength. For prayers answered.

And as I move from the window--from these bits of prayers and love scattered in the wind--I pray for them sweet dream-moments shared in a warm kitchen while the wind rages outside.

I pray for them cookies.


(This post is part of my 12 days of Community posts. Head over to HCB to learn more about why you should promote someone other than yourself this holiday!)

Related posts:

Day one: A Gift Community
Day two: Glynn Young
Day three: Leslie Leyland Fields
Day four: Christmas Change 

And, don’t forget to make a comment here for a chance to win Leslie’s book, Parenting is Your Highest Calling and Eight Other Myths That Trap Us in Worry and Guilt.

Day Four: Christmas Change

I remember the smell of him.

Well-known on our hollow, he had no home--though our neighbors let him sleep in their barn.

He wandered.

We would see him walking up Gore Hill, or sitting on the bridge at the fork in the road.

My mother, without fail, would pull over and offer him a ride. He would squeeze into the back seat of our station wagon, sandwiched into the four of us. We would hold our breath and avert our eyes, lifting them only to throw desperate glances at one another.

If we ran across him when mom was not present, he always said the same thing.

“Your mamma is a good woman.”

We didn’t have much. But we were taught to share what we did have with those who had even less.

Christmas was not celebrated in our house when I was a child, but this is a gift my mother gave that I still unwrap each day.

Every year during Advent, my heart is tendered to the past.  I am very aware of those absent Christmas memories, very aware of the ones we create now. But…

Though we did not exchange gifts--did not deck the halls, Christ was central in our lives every day.

For this, I am grateful.

I wait with bated breath.

And am even more determined to pass along this gift my mother gave.

This year, we are doing this.

Here are some ways we have decided to change up our Christmas this year.

We decided to collect all the change we receive while out Christmas shopping this season. And that change that just sits around the house, doing no good for anyone. Our goal is to raise $100 to purchase something from the WorldVision catalog for our sponsored children.

I got this idea from Marcus Goodyear. The boys are going through their toys and donating some gently used items to charity. This is only the beginning.

While they were going through toys, I was going through closets. Can you believe I found 23 pairs of barely worn underwear in Jeffrey's drawer that he has outgrown? Amazing, those growth spurts. These will be donated to our local clothing bank.

What about you? Head over to Christmas Change for some great ideas about giving back this Christmas. While you’re there, read this article by Billy Coffey. I know you’ll be inspired. He’s swell.

This post is part of my 12 days of Community posts. Head over to HCB to learn more about why you should promote someone other than yourself this holiday!

Related posts:

Day one: A Gift Community
Day two: Glynn Young
Day three: Leslie Leyland Fields

And, don’t forget to make a comment here for a chance to win Leslie’s book, Parenting is Your Highest Calling and Eight Other Myths That Trap Us in Worry and Guilt.

Day Three and a Christmas Giveaway!

My boys are not normal.

By that, I mean, they are not like other young boys in our community. Our family has a different focus than most of our neighbors.

Confession: I haven’t always been okay with this.

I want the best for them. Like many first-time parents, early on I assumed that what everyone else was doing was best. And sometimes it feels like fitting in is best. I have no guidelines here. The main thing my formative years taught me about this was that I wanted to do things differently.

I made a lot of mistakes.

I searched scripture for answers. Read all the latest Christian parenting books. But even the most respected Christian writers disagreed on how best to apply Biblical wisdom to parenting. I wish someone had told me, “Laura, trust in Him. You’ll figure it out together.”

I found out the hard way. Over tears and battles; self-doubt and prayer.

So, I sit up and take notice when I come across words such as these:

When we turn our eyes away from our culture to the reality of God’s own parenthood, and to the biblical narratives of other mothers and fathers, we find truths about parenting that challenge our contemporary preoccupations. When we look beyond the few select verses we often focus on, we see that parenting is more than five easy steps or three prayer-filled strategies... Above all, Scripture returns us to our highest calling: to love the Lord our God first, before all others.

These are the words of author Leslie Leyland Fields in her book Parenting is Your Highest Calling, and 8 Other Myths That Trap Us in Worry and Guilt.

As I told Leslie in correspondence, “If only! If only I had this book back then.” Oh, how it would have helped me avoid some parental bungling.

Leslie counters the Christianese that leaves so many of us empty.

Myth 6: You represent Jesus to your children.

How often have I heard it? How often have I said it myself?

Dear Lord, help me be Jesus to these children.

As if I could ever.

We do the work of parents, which is to point our children to Jesus…And when my own servant’s heart is emptied, as it often is when I stand among my family’s continual needs, I am reminded that I cannot be Jesus; I can only need Jesus.

Amen to that.

How about this one: Myth 5, You must be following the wrong plan.

This knowledge [that no one knows our children as well as God] frees us to parent like God--not according to a human-sourced formula but according to love and knowledge, not according to ease and efficiency but according to individual needs. Our relationship with each one of our children can be as living and dynamic as our own relationship with our heavenly Father. He loves us freely, irrationally, and according to his nature, and we are to love our children the same, regardless of inconvenience and cost. We can celebrate this freedom an rejoice in God’s inexhaustible creativity, poured out in every child he has given. And poured out upon us as we parent in the footsteps of our Father.

And what about the title myth?

Myth 3: Parenting is your highest calling.

We know better, don’t we? But how often do we unseat the Sovereign from his throne and replace him with our family, as Leslie so aptly states?

If I pursue God first as my highest call and am satisfied in his love, then I am freed not to love my children less but to love them rightly. I am freed from the error of the disciples’ mother, who sought identity and significance through her sons rather than in her role as God’s redeemed daughter. [Matt. 20:20-23]

May I recommend this encouraging book for those new or expectant parents on your Christmas list this season? Even this mother with older children has grown in the reading. This remarkable book repeatedly leads me back to God the Father through my parenting--in both triumphs and blunders.

If you leave a comment on this post between now and next Monday, you may just win a copy of Leslie’s book! Just in time for Christmas! Winner will be announced on Monday, Dec. 14th.

Related posts:

Day one: A Gift Community
Day two: Meet Glynn Young

In the spirit of the holiday season, some of us from our little community are promoting 12 Days of Community this Advent season. Would you like to join us? As the body of Christ we are called to build each other up. Is there someone you would like to introduce us to?

The Twelve Days of Community, Day 2: Glynn Young

They call him The Engine.

That’s what his fellow bikers (“non-motorized, leg power variety”) called Glynn Young when they went on a 160 mile trail ride with him this past summer. Glynn wasn’t the fastest. Or able to pull the hills most skillfully. But his friends noticed that he seems to be able to “ride forever”.

I’ve observed this steadfastness about Glynn in his writing too. He has traveled along with me faithfully in our book club discussions over at HCB. Once, he even posted when I was taking a break.  It’s not always easy to stick a thing through to the end, but Glynn seems to have that one down.

Just because he’s reliable, don’t think that means he’s boring, though. Visit him over at his blog and you’ll find stories about biking with eagles, hiking in Shaw’s Nature Reserve ,or being part of a church communication team sent to Eastern Europe. 

And then there’s the poetry. Ah, the poetry. And that brings me to another interesting thing about Glynn, he is a self-proclaimed “partner in crime” with L.L. Barkat and Eric Swalberg in publishing TweetSpeak Poetry, an online journal for Twitter poem. This is where all of the "twoems" from their twitter poetry jams land. I’ve yet to make it to one of those parties, but it’s on my short term goal list.

Glynn is an award-winning speechwriter and communication consultant who is happily married to Janet. The couple resides in St. Louis and have two grown sons.  They are expecting their first grandchild in March.

“Speechwriter?” I asked Glynn. “You mean…like, for other people?”

Glynn modestly assured me that that is his job. He likes his job. “Most people in PR hate speech writing,” he says, “someone else always gets the credit.”

Not a big head, that Glynn.

“I don’t think I’ve ever known one of those before,” was my response to the speechwriting information. I thought only presidents have guys who do that. I was wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time. Glynn works in the agricultural industry. After a little investigation, I found some of Glynn’s speechwriting roots shining through in his blog. The man knows his stuff.

I sure have enjoyed getting to know Glynn. His stories are masterful, and they usually have a sweet personal touch that just takes me in.

But don’t take my word for it! Head over to Faith, Fiction, and Friends and experience it firsthand. Tell Glynn Laura sent you!

Related posts:

A Gift Community 

This is my second post in the 12 Days of Community hosted by High Calling Blogs. Why not join us and introduce us to someone who has inspired you this Advent season? You can read more about it here:
 

A Gift Community

What you do, each and every day, matters to God—whether it’s in a board room, behind a desk, in front of a computer, around the dinner table with your family, out in the community, or at church—God cares about it. –Howard Butt, Jr.

Maybe ya’all have noticed my little High Calling Blogs badge on the sidebar. Or the link underneath my header. Perhaps you have wondered what that’s all about. Maybe you have never felt adventurous enough to click on over but are mildly curious.

Well, you’re in luck today! I want to share a bit about Highcallingblogs.com (HCB) this morning.

I stumbled into HCB when I found this lady online. I ended up reading her book and recognizing what a gifted writer she is. She introduced me to HCB and encouraged me to get involved in the community.

HighCallingBlogs.com is a network of Christian sites who have said they are interested in thinking through the intersection of faith and work (straight from the FAQ page).

As our senior editor, Marcus Goodyear, says, Wherever we are, whatever we are doing, we honor God through our relationships.

More from the FAQ page: we… believe people can (and should!) serve God through their daily work. For us, this is more often about the way people work, the excellence of their work and their working relationships. When we talk about work, we mean something more than just 9 to 5 office jobs. Certainly, work includes those kind of jobs. But daily work is broader than that. It includes stay-at-home parents as well as the traditional business person. It includes pastors as well as secular professions like public school teachers and doctors and lawyers…our vision for HighCallingBlogs.com is to create opportunities through new media tools for people to encounter God for the transformation of daily live, work, and our world.

HCB is a place to find excellent writing, breathtaking photography and artwork, and encouraging community. You’ll find me over there today--shepherding a book club discussion.

We’ve been issued a special invitation by our Managing Editor recently. We are calling it 12 days of community. You can read about it over here.

In honor of the 12 days of community, and in the spirit of the season, I would like to share some of the gifts the HCB community has brought to me. In the coming weeks, I’ll be introducing you to some of my fellow HCB contributors. I pray their work will bless you and bring you to a sweet place of rest this Advent season.

To be continued…

Outside My Window

first snow

comes soft

a mist of

winter’s breath

laid gently

down

cradles all

earth

mumbles in sleep

beneath chilly cover

and rolls

over

to resume

quietly spinning

through time.

Enough

The Santa Shop:

Here’s how it works:

The kids bring in their envelopes--filled with their money--and we help them shop.

The envelopes have the names of who they shop for: mother, father, brother, sister…

The tables are filled with items…from twenty-five cents to ten dollars. Some items seem trite. Mere trinkets. Junk.

But to the one who chooses them, they are treasure. They think of the one they buy for. They ponder what would please.

It is a joy to witness this love in action.

 

We tally up their purchases as they go; help them keep track of what they have left to spend.

Some come with much. Some with…much less.

One little girl comes with a baggie of change. Four dollars and fourteen cents. She wanders from table to table, agonizing over her purchases.

Then she comes to me.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I say, groaning inside. “You’ve bought too many things.”

She looks at me, confused.

“You don’t have enough money, honey.”

Blank stare.

“You’ll have to put something back.”

This, she understands.

Crestfallen. How to choose? Each was selected painstakingly, she put her heart into each one. The one given up will be grieved. It will be missed.

I am that little girl tonight.

Putting something back.

Giving up a treasure.

Because I don’t have enough.

Grieving.

Missing.

Wishing I had more.

But sometimes a thing must be laid down before it can be found by the One.

The One who has enough.

A Houseguest for the Holidays

He most certainly would have been put down today.

I watched our new houseguest bask in my boys’ attentions as I listened to her on the other end of the line.


There were two other dogs with injuries that were put down today. They tell me I can’t save them all, but I do what I can. I’m glad we got him out of there.

I felt a lump in my throat at the regret in her voice. This dog still had a lot of living to do. I bet the other two did as well. I thanked her and promised to keep her posted on his status.

The boys have been asking their daddy for a puppy for Christmas.


Tell daddy that if he lets us have a puppy, we don’t want anything else, Jeffrey said.

(Well, almost not anything else, said Teddy; which after saying he received a sharp nudge from his brother). The answer was no. For many good reasons. (Not just because daddy is a big, fat meanie:). Then, a couple days ago, I received this email from the Boston Terrier Rescue League:

Laura…the County shelter just called to ask if we can help with the Boston in the shelter. He has a ruptured eye that has to be removed and the shelter won't pay for it so they plan to put him down instead. They also need a foster for him after the surgery if he gets it…Could you work it out? 

They plan to put him down instead.

These words made our decision. I made a few phone calls, found a sweet friend who agreed to pay for the surgery, and the process was set in motion.

We picked little Argus up at the vets yesterday afternoon. He will be ours over the holidays.A houseguest for Christmas.

As Jeffrey said on our way home from the vet’s yesterday afternoon, “He is absolutely precious!”

He's a perfect little angel...complete with halo.

Our Christmas gift came early this year. And guess who his favorite person is? That’s right: Daddy. 