But December, if you choose, if you allow it, can be the trail through the woods that leads to the light, far off in the distance.
The darkness itself offers the gift. Each day, the darkness comes sooner, comes deeper, comes blacker than ink. It draws us in, into our homes, yes, but more so, into our souls.
It invites us: Light a light. Wrap a blanket. Sit by the fire. Stare into the flames, and onto the last dying embers. Consider the coming of Christmas.
Barbara Mahany
Slowing Time, p. 179
For she had learned to really pray. For the first time in her life she had discovered prayer to be not what it had hitherto been to her “the occupation of the praying mind or the sound of the voice praying,” but a ceaseless offering up of the whole personality, of every thought and word and action, as sacrifice.
Elizabeth Goudge
The Pilgrim’s Inn, p. 43
Then Jesus said unto them, Yet a little while is the light with you. Walk while ye have the light, lest darkness comes sooner upon you: for he that walketh in darkness knoweth not whither he goeth.
While ye have light, believe in the light, that ye may be the children of light…
I am come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth on me should not abide in darkness.
I have noticed that some of the happiest people are not by nature the strongest, but they are those who love the Lord their Strength with a confident, joyful love; and they are not constantly thinking of themselves and their weakness, nor do they ever dream of not enjoying what He gives them to do, for “the joy of the Lord is [their] strength”, and their Lord is their firm support.
It’s a cold, ill, rainy wind that blows no good today. Soooo, of course, that makes me think of books. Ha. Who am I kidding. EVERYTHING makes me think of books. 🙃🤓😌😏😂♥️
I wanted to give you a heads up on a GORGEOUS nonfiction writer I’ve found this past year. Her writing is poetry to me. I’ve almost finished up Slowing Time by her as it’s set up seasonally so I am waiting for the winter section. She is of a different faith tradition than myself, but ties her practice to nature and the seasons so beautifully that I find I can pull out things that speak to me as a Christian.
I think she has only four books, so I hope to collect the last of hers which I’m waiting to find called The Book of Nature.
Have you discovered a new-to-you writer/artist/singer this year?
Love 💕 occasionally reading quickly through the Gospels in KJV…
I jumped on the shovel edge in my daughter’s pastel rainbow crocs. I found myself falling backwards, feet up and over, crocs, scattering. I burst out laughing, after mentally checking my ache-y, forty-something self for injury. I sure hope nobody I know saw me in the front yard of my parent’s home. 🤪😏👀 I planted the bulbs with my five year old as he stared at me with wonder. “Ok, ok, kid,” I thought, “it’s pretty unusual to see your mother shoveling and sweating, not to mention falling over.” Ha. 😂
We just finished this as a read aloud. We all adored it! 🕯️🪔🕯️
I’ve been thinking about Jesus’ parable of the sower {Matthew 13:1-9} in relation to being a mother. Could it be that the enrichment of their soul earth is our primary, creative work? Our magnum opus? It’s sweaty, unseen, thankless soul-shoveling work. We add manure, pull out weeds, we prepare the soil with truth, beauty, and rich, good things. Why? By faith, slowly, we trust that eventually it will be ready to receive the seed of God’s Word.
My daughter made bread and I used up leftover rice for chicken, veggie, rice soup… 🥣 ♥️
Weaving in and out of this preparation, we grow in our gardening skills ourselves. We limp around on our bruised backsides 😏, callused palms smarting, and keep strewing bits of life and light. We stretch and use all the God has given us. RM’s song “Wildflower” stuck with me deeply after it was first released. He is speaking on his creativity journey, but the idea of growing a lasting, perennial ‘flowerwork’ instead of an instantaneously burnt out flaming firework. The bright and flashy is gone in a second. Long, lasting work takes a kind of death and humilty. Once the seed is tucked into the earth, it’s a work of long trust and patience. Motherhood and our creative work both need this mustard-seed faith and fallow season.
“Flower field, that’s where I’m at
Open land that’s where I’m at
No name, that’s what I have
No shame, I’m on my grave.”
~RM, English translation, Genius.com
The character Isobel in the YA fantasy, An Enchantment of Ravens, found out through her painting, the stark emptiness and abject horror of immortality. It’s not glamorous to work, live, grow old, and die while serving, creating, and loving, but it’s human. The created of a Creator creates. That makes it enough. It’s prayer and worship. Thankfulness by fullness of being. So much around us is so empty and vacuous. Without true meaning. A life of meaning means toil, back breaking, long-haul work with faith.
“I ask where you could be right now
Where you go, where’s your soul
Yo, where’s your dream?”
~ RM
Four years of reading journals! Blue sparrow one is my new one… ♥️♥️♥️I left Goodreads and have loved this tactile way of creatively engaging with my reading.
So, where do our dreams go? They are still right here. Transformed into something human AND Spirit-powered. They may change form, a weaving in and out all that we are doing. Seasons of our servanthood with the gifts we’ve been given promise new morning mercies. Just as I can surely count on the perennial return of my mom’s tulips and daffodils, I can trust this slow, quiet blooming process is working in my children and in me, too. Thanks be to God.
Sweet, dirty little feet…💕💕💕
How about you? How do you view relationships and creativity? How are you cultivating a culture of creative work while maintaining closeness and connections to your faith, family, and friends? I’d love to hear any thoughts! I’m still trying to flesh out what this all means…
Hello, my old friends, I’ve {finally} come to talk with you all again! 😄🖤
These last few weeks have been a mash up of glorious warm, leaf crunching, rattle-and-rolling weather with a side of gorgeous rain. November is definitely here in all her glory. The clouds and sky have been spectacular!
I’ve been hunkered down a bit with family, homeschool, and church responsibilities, so my online fun 😅 has had to be kept to a minimum. I’ve still been reading, and it’s been a lovely respite to our full and busy days. A few of our outside responsibilities are lighter during the last part of November and December so that will be nice to catch my breath.
Half a moon! 😌
I’ve been struggling a bit to get the jumble up here *taps brain* to down here *taps blank page* and all I’ve got is my ‘word salads’ as I call them. I’ve been dumping impressions, ideas, words, what’s going on in the moment, etc etc etc into my ‘dump/empty’ brain journal. It’s kinda all I got currently. I see a few phrases in these riots of ramblings that I might want to use/explore later so it’s a start, right?! Ray Bradbury loved his lists and worked on stories from them YEARS later. I’m counting on this Bradbury Magic to transfer to me. 😂 Of course, Mr. Bradbury wrote a 1,000 + words everyday no matter what. ☺️😍🥰
I’ve been thinking a lot about mirrors after revisiting The Mirror Visitor Series, how Ophelia can only travel through them when she sees her true self in the mirror, no disguises or wishing for something different. It’s been tying into the opening chapters of my reread of A Circle of Quiet by Madeleine L’Engle. She’s speaking on creativity/writing here:
If I thought I had to say it better than anybody else, I’d never start. Better or worse is immaterial. The thing is that it has to be said; by me, ontologically. We each have to say it, to say it our own way. Not of our own will, but as it comes out through us. Good or bad, great or little: that isn’t what human creation is about. It is that we have to try; to put it down in pigment, or words, or musical notations, or we die. ~ L’Engle, p. 28, A Circle of Quiet
Commonplace journal. 📓 A beautiful, new-to-me, song! Sophie 🥰🥰🥰
How ‘bout you? How are you doing? Any creative threads to follow lately? I’ll leave with a few more photos and a wish and prayer that your week is full of true Joy no matter our circumstances. ♥️🖤♥️
Highly recommend! Beautiful 🤩 “Exit, pursued by a bear.” 😂A favorite spot for prayer and contemplation. 🖤😌🙏🏻 So many friends and family in heavy circumstances. We make our own fun here. 😂I want to read this whole book! A friend is reading bits at our Charlotte Mason co op and it’s gorgeous.
Happy Monday, my friends. A new week, with no mistakes in it yet. ♥️
“And straightway the father of the child cried out and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”
Do you find yourself returning to old favorites and habits in times of stress and upheaval? Sometimes, for me, this isn’t a good thing, because I have to work very hard to make good choices in a few areas where I’m prone to excess. However, books, music, and nature or domestic detail photography all have their place in a kind of “on-the-spot therapy” for me. I am definitely a rereader especially if a book encapsulates a certain ‘feeling’ I’m after or setting I love.
Poetry that I return to again and again!Wild, windy days and whipping yellow
I recently pulled off my shelf a favorite reread series that’s so interesting that I got immediately sucked in all over again. I was reminded how much I love rereading, because so much more can be caught and different things highlighted. The Mirror Visitor Series isn’t perfect, but it has so many interesting characters and so many ideas to think on, I just love it. I was again reminded that it’s not always good for me to rush reading or be trying to keep up with all the new stuff. One big downside to Bookstagram and Booktube. Poetry, too, is something I absolutely have favorites of, I’m so rewarded and surprised as I cracked open the pages and take a deep drink all over again.
I don’t own a PB copy of the last book, The Stormof Echoes yet, can’t wait to collect it for the gorgeous cover alone. My favorites are the first two, by far, but they are all so immersive. Josh Garrels oldie, but goodie
I’m very eclectic in my reading, listening, and watching tastes. I like quirky, kind of off-the-beaten-track things with a side of classic. I’ve noticed a shift lately back to my old Josh Garrels listening, instrumental BTS (my one and ever only K-pop fandom), a craving for films like Sound of Music, Howl’s Moving Castle, and Babette’s Feast. I watched a few episodes of Over the Garden Wall with my kids the other day. It’s a bit toooo creepy for us, but some of it is interesting and has such a gorgeous atmosphere. How about you? What do you gravitate towards when life is feeling weighty?
Two reread favorites 🥹♥️Tree gazing and listening to…what are they whispering? Hello light, my old friend.
How ‘bout you? What are some healthy ways you refresh yourself? Do you need something new and different? Or do you return to your comfortable, hole-y sweater of inspiration? It goes without saying, that the Holy Bible is super comforting to me because it shows that there is nothing new under the sun. We are all so flawed. I need deep gulps of Jesus.♥️ I definitely occasionally need a ‘Tookish’ adventure to get me out of a funk, but generally, returning to my old Baggins favorites and home comforts blesses me immensely. What richness we’ve been given! ☺️♥️🕸️🕷️🌿🍂🍁🍄🌾
Somehow I’ve lost my way with writing (and in general, creativity). Words and the authors (all artists, really) behind the ink have watered my soul in ways I can’t even begin to express. I want to find my way back to putting pen to paper, expressing memories, emotion, ideas, and ultimately, hope.
I’m starting by finding a few things to spur me on, but really just writing down anything each day. You start by doing. You continue by consistency. It can be randomness, but it’s out of my brain and it’s concrete.
Collage is probably the best way of describing the way I want to write and create. A simmering ephemera soup of colors, ideas, and encouragement. Incidentally, I also make collage art. I’ve just started doing it a bit more consistently. I recently realized that I’ve always collaged in some way, through scrapbooking, junk journaling, quilting, collecting words, and a little bit through photography, too.
How ‘bout you? Are there creative areas you want to resurrect in your life? Have you considered how different seasons of life, and circumstances (for me, covid, years of all little kids, distracting social media, health challenges) have made it difficult, but not impossible to come back to these areas.
Beware of any hesitation to abandon to God. It is the meanest characteristics of our personality that are at work whenever we hesitate, there is some element of self-interest that won’t submit to God.
“No one ever cared for me like Jesus His faithful hand has held me all this way And when I’m old and grey And all my days Are numbered on the earth Let it be known in You alone My joy was found”
We had a great start to our homeschool year this week. I changed our multiple journals that we’ve used in the past to one (plus a group one) for each of us and that is going very well! We so far are enjoying our books…the clear favorites of the week are our continuing a summer read of Jane of Lantern Hill by LM Montgomery, By the Shores of Silver Lake by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and Around the World in 80 Days audiobook by Jules Verne. I attached some things to meal/tea time and it’s working well. I so enjoy reading public library picks with my youngers in spare moments. I’ve worked out a rhythm for working through individual work my youngest to oldest and it’s working wonderfully. We still have some wrinkles to iron out as my 12th grader 😭♥️ is working two days a week this year and we haven’t hit the co ops we are in yet. They start next week! Overall, I’m pleased with the forward motion. How was your week? Bless you as you put your hand to YOUR plow! ♥️✨🌻📚🥰☕️💌🖤
Monarchs are “tough and powerful, as butterflies go.” They fly over Lake Superior without resting; in fact, observers there discovered a curious thing, instead of flying directly south, monarchs crossing high over the water take an inexplicable turn towards the east. Then when they reach an invisible point, they all veer south again. Each successive swarm repeats this mysterious dogleg movement, year after year. Entomologists actually think that the butterflies might be “remembering” a long-gone, looming glacier.
Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, p.258
{God’s creation astounds me! It inspires and encourages me. Happy Back to School week and Happy September! }📝🖤📚📓🌿🌻🐈
A.M. Pine - Hearth Ridge Reflections 