It’s tough to be on the receiving end of love, God’s or anybody else’s. It requires that we see our lives not as our possessions, but as gifts. “Nothing is more repugnant to capable, reasonable people than grace,” wrote John Wesley a long time ago. ~ William Willimon, Watch for the Light, p. 148
THE night
Wanes into morning, and the dawning light
Broadens, and all shadows fade and shift!
I follow, follow, – sure to meet the sun,
And confident that what the future yields
Will be the Right,-unless myself be wrong.
Longfellow, The Cloud of Witness, p. 22
But two ways are offered to our will – Toil with rare triumph, Ease with safe disgrace: – Nor deem that acts heroic wait on chance! The man’s whole life precludes the single deed That shall decide if his inheritance Be with the sifted few of matchless breed, Or with the unmotivated herd that only sleep and feed.
~ Lowell, p.36, The Cloud of Witness, emphasis mine
The Four Seasons of Mary Azarian, by Lilias Macbean Hart, illustrated by Mary Azarian {previously published post from December 2019}
Continuing my Advent musings with Azarian and The Cloud of Witness…
Earth breaks up, time drops away,
In flows heaven with its new day
Of endless life, when He who trod,
Very Man and very God,
This earth in weakness, shame
and pain,
Dying the death whose signs
remain
Up yonder on the accursed tree, –
Shall come again, no more to be
Of captivity the thrall,
But the one God, All in All,
King of Kings and Lord of lords:
As His servant John received the words,
“I died, and live for evermore.”
~ Browning, p. 9
The Cloud of Witness
Hello Fellow Wordweavers, Dreamers, and Beauty Chasers ~ isn’t this time of year enchanting? I’m especially in awe of seeing it through my children’s eyes. It’s taken me a long while to just take these simple moments, minute by minute and see them for the gift they are! I’ve been dipping into Robert MacFarlane’s Landmarks again and just recently fell under the spell 😉 of The Lost Spells, oh my, I may be getting this in my stocking as a gift from myself to myself. How has your Advent season started? Hopefully, it’s calm & bright in the deepest part of your soul, despite the external craziness this time of year can bring. Happiest Advent to you!
I’m Thinking… how odd it feels to be fighting staying present, yet excited about the new year and its dreams, plans, and ideas. There’s just something about a fresh, crisp journal waiting to be cracked open and ink-stained, is there not?!
I’m Thankful For… the grace and space my hubby and children grant me for my weirdness and dreaming.
One of My Favorite Things… the magical half light between dawn and the remnants of dreams – that half dream state of thought, ideas, and creation sprinkled over reality. It’s elusive, but often comes when soaking in The Word {Holy Bible}, the great words of writers & poets down through the ages, glorious art, and music.
I’m Wearing… a favorite grey pullover with a cowl-like neck a lot recently. Jeans, tshirts, and big thick socks. It’s snuggly season.
I’m Watching… Leslie Austen’s peaceful vlogs and old Antiques Roadshow episodes on YouTube. I’m loving Chantel’s bookish vlogmas.
I’m Reading… in a bit of a slump after finishing Laurie R. King’s first in a Sherlock Holmes reimagining, The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, which I throughly enjoyed. Thankfully, there are like 18? 😍 books in this series. Hopefully, they will be as good as the first. I also am hoping for a bit of a Jonathan Stroud binge, as I read one of his Lockwood & Co. YA books and really enjoyed it.
I’m Listening… to a lot of instrumental Christmas music, Brandon Sanderson & Dan Wells podcast, Roberta Flack’s Killing Me Softly, and I was so enchanted by this talk on Narnia, etc out of Oxford.
I’m Hoping… to continue our quiet Advent readings and keeping things relatively calm so as to truly enjoy celebrating Christmastime. 🎄🎄🎄
I’m Learning…in giving away, we multiply.
In the Homeschool Room… we are enjoying our Advent and Christmas readings, but just continuing all our great books, at a leisurely pace. We loved making paper bag stars this week and hope to do more soon. We made ours each with 9 lunch bags and hot glue, such a huge, beautiful visual delight.
Shared Quote…
“Always clamoring to know, we are ever inconstant. The soul is constant only to this unknowing which keeps her pursuing.”
Meister Eckhart
{Happy Birthday, Lucy Maud Montgomery! Original poem from 2017 after my dream trip to Prince Edward Island with my husband in celebration of our 15th wedding anniversary}
Prince Edward Island to Hearth Ridge Farm: A Tension
Here home again, bittersweet world of words.
Red-stained, Isle of blue-green,
Sail waiting to be unfurled.
Glints of gold on glass, mind’s-eye scene,
path of sunlight to horizon, quiet ease.
The din of loved ones, drowning
sea’s strong murmur. But I’ve a new lease, a fervor.
Responsibilities crashing loudly, crowning,
but a secret seeps from my
lapping lips, whispering of far-flung beauty sounding.
Out comes dunes, out comes brilliant sky,
Out comes red earth, surf, and seagull cry.
The thick worlds collide, my heart’s
isle and soul’s farm become intertwined.
Fingers stroke cheeks, sand grains left behind.
My breath is salty, pungent as I kiss
their darling, dirty faces, fists. The fields of corn,
waves of the sea, something missing and found in me.
Beacons, buoys, blueness, quintessential coastal horns,
sea in my lungs, earth in my throat,
compost of being, soul sea-soaked.
Farm’s beauty full width and breadth, feasting on, seeing
It’s flesh alive because of Island wind,
that died a death sown deep in me.
This old dirt-made woman, new from sweet saltiness of sea.
~A.M. Pine
Other posts I’ve written on Maud here and here if you are interested! ~
Who is your forever muse? I have many, but Maud will always be my favorite inspiration!
“Man, sometimes it takes you a long time to sound like yourself.
Miles Davis
{I saw this quote floating around online and snatched it up in my net for contemplation. Real life walks at the pace of patience, does it not?}
I read somewhere once that we write so we won’t forget. I recently joined a memoir writing class at a local library and you know, it has me digging deep into the recesses of my foggy memory for life experiences. It’s hard. Scraps of life jump out to me, childhood games of pretend, forcing my sister to eat grass because we were rabbits. An award ceremony, the cold, hard delight of that basketball trophy gripped in my hand. My grandma’s cigarette-smoke filled home, the soap operas, Smurfs, ice cold milk in old jelly jars, and stale cookies out of her raccoon-shaped cookie jar.
I hear bits of my teacher trying to consul me about my lack of brain function over math. I feel the pain after hitting the wall instead of my brother with my pathetic attempt at a punch. Flashes of my high school and college jobs, the chop suey sold and all the apples and ramen noodles consumed by this broke college student.
Little fragments tinkle and crumble through my hand. But I’m forgetting. My mind is blank in some spots. I remember bits of my wedding, the hot, sticky, humid September air. The kiss from the leathery lips of my husband’s grandfather. I remember smiling so much my lips cracked, the frosting up my nose, my new husband’s hand on my satin-clad waist.
I must keep remembering in ink, so the remembering in life will never be forgotten. I must remember my babies births, that moment when they broke free of my womb and I see their precious face, lips, hands, and toes for the first time. It’s slipping away in a jumble of fog, life, hurt, joys and the simmering soup of time.
I don’t want to forget that first car my dad helped me buy, or the beauty, intrigue, and tension of my first love. The summer camp nights, big group of friends gazing at a sky full of stars. The miles I walked on campuses, Professor Grant’s face from English Lit or a sociology class that turned out fascinating. The Ph.D student from China, who I met and became close with, him cooking Chinese for me and I dubbing him Doc, his laugh echoing and head shaking at my lame attempt with his name. I could go on and on.
I must write to remember, keeping my life moments alive. I have these memories that only I can save from slipping away forever.
November sings out loudly my favorite practice of gratitude keeping. A sort of conscious, daily, or monthly digging for and airing of all the small things I have to be truly astonished by in life. Won’t you join me in this November song?
Looking Out My Window… it’s definitely turned frostier around our edges, the finches at the feeders bring a smile to my face watching them fluffing up their feathers, pulling on their sweaters for winter. The days are pretty mild still for this time of year and one of my little boy’s eyes grew saucer-sized at the promise of Christmas next month.
I’m Thinking… about loved ones walking through covid, about the approaching holidays, and about NaNoWriMo – a lovely November collective challenge online of writers who write 50,000 words of a new novel. While I’m not writing on a new project, I’m making an effort to work on writing each day. It’s gloriously inspiring! Do you NaNo?
I’m Thankful For… my oldest surprising me with a beautiful forest scene Kindle cover, a new stack of deliciousness to dip into from the public library, and anticipation over all the interesting things at our homeschool co-op tomorrow.
One of My Favorite Things… slowly collecting all of L.M. Montgomery’s stories and other writings. Bonfires, stargazing, and my new-to-me striped floral blanket.
I’m Wearing… my favorite green pants, new comfy jewel-toned socks, and tshirts and cardigans. I broke out my Red Converse and found some older, favorite earrings. I had to throw away my favorite slippers, so maybe Santa aka ME 😉 will get me some new ones for Christmas.
I’m Creating… scenes for my two middle-grade stories, working on two short stories, morning pages/journaling, blog ideas, and planning little Christmas gift surprises.
I’m Watching… Hercule Poirot 😄 and hopefully, Spirited Away soon.
I’m Reading… L.M. Montgomery short story collections, rereading Emily Climbs, Ray Bradbury’s Green Shadows, White Whale, and peeking into a library stack to see if anything catches my fancy. I just finished ✔️ The Personal Diaries of Alison Uttley and it was so interesting.
I’m Listening… Spotify Japanese instrumental, Studio Ghibli soundtracks, and Hobbit/LoTR soundtracks.
I’m Hoping… to keep up writing momentum, do Operation Christmas Child gift boxes with my children, and visit some favorite haunts with my husband soon.
In the Garden… frost, friendly ghosts, and dreams of summer 😌♥️
I’m Learning… that writing, sharing, servanthood, and art can birth new art and gifts…we fill to pour out ourselves. We return again and again in a glorious flowing seasonal circle of beauty.
In the Kitchen…lots of pork sausage with cabbage stir fry. The children love this mixed with brown rice. I created a Chicken Taco Chili in the Instapot and it was a hit. We’ve been eating more butternut, acorn, and spaghetti squash, too!
In Homeschool Room…we are enjoying our group gatherings at the table to listen to music or Shakespeare’s Hamlet while we nature journal.
Shared Quote… “LORD, we need more reincarnations of Thy perfect love like the Christ. Is that the goal every Christian ought to make his own? The question seems to answer itself. But how, God, can all these little Christians succeed when those who have best opportunity find it so hard? I see only two things: first, constant outpourings of Thy Holy Spirit; second, the doctrine of ever fresh beginnings. We may forgetfully sink for an hour, but we may also start over at any moment.” ~Frank C. Laubach
Let your heart rejoice, my friends! Love, Amy 🍁
“Well, let us see. What do I like? I like my own children and all nice, fat, clean babies anywhere. I like all kinds of books if they’re well written whether they are religious or philosophical or sentimental or cynical or humorous or exaggerated or indecent. I like writing books myself. I like cats and horses and some dogs. I like curling breakers, woods and mountains and stars and trees and flowers. I like nicely furnished houses. I like good Victrola records and the music of the violin. I like pretty china and glass and old heirloom things. I like a cosy bed and a tight hot water bottle. I like being kissed by the right kind of man. I like jewels and pretty clothes. I like doing fancy work and I like cooking and I like eating nice things other people cook. I like motoring and driving and walking. I like a systematic life with occasional dashings over the traces. I like open fires and moonlit nights. I like chatty letters. I like compliments. I like to see a person I dislike snubbed. I like my own looks when my hair is dressed a certain way. I like a snack at bedtime. I like going out to dinner. I like helping other people and I like to be very independent of help myself. I like sunset and pictures and sea bathing. I like keeping a journal. I like reading old letters…” ~ L.M. Montgomery, The Selected Journals, Volume II, p. 370-371
{Wasn’t that interesting and humorous? She goes on a bit more, too! I love reading writer’s and homesteader’s journals and diaries, especially from a woman’s perspective as I think they were at the heart of everything. Do you? I also love making lists of things I’m currently enjoying or loving like Maud did here. Have you ever done this?}
But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God; I trust in the mercy of God forever and ever…I will wait on Your name, for it is good.
Psalms 52: 8, 9b
“The seed is in the ground.
Now may we rest in hope
While darkness does its work.”
Wendell Berry
It’s late {for me} Saturday night. The noises of last minute doings, rumblings, and little children can be heard. I’ve had a day of inky ideas and wind-tousled whispers and thoughts and heart and Spirit stirrings. In-between all the dishes, spills, and grocery lines. But that’s ok, things wait. There’s a time and place and season. Aslan is on the move. The seed is in the ground…and I’m going to rest in hope, while darkness does her work. Hope you are hopeful tonight, too. Love, Amy
A.M. Pine - Hearth Ridge Reflections 