On Sunday morning, we were sitting in our worship service listening to one of our elders systemically and sensitively build a case for faith. He was talking about intelligent design and laying out, one by one, pieces of evidence for intelligent design, for a Creator. I heard someone murmuring behind us but didn't hear what he said. The friend sitting next to me leaned over and said, "It's snowing!" I looked through the huge window that runs the length of our church and there they were: big fluffy flakes falling quickly through the trees on that side of the building. It was a stunning sight.
My daughter would be so excited. I was excited! We don't get much snow in our area so when it's a possibility, I always hold my breath like a little kid, especially now that I'm a parent.
Turning my attention back to the message, I smiled when I realized the elder was talking about the cells in our bodies with their intricate DNA, the length of which blew my mind. God created even the tiniest parts of our bodies, the stars in our vast universe, and snowflakes, too, each one of which is said to be different from all the others. It was a God moment for me.
Later, in our hats and gloves and layers, my daughter and I romped in our front yard while my husband snapped some photos. Our dog was confused and uncertain about the white stuff on the ground, but my daughter was having a blast. She and I stayed out in the cold for as long as we could, hurling snowballs, packing a small snow mountain (our version of a snowman), writing our initials in undisturbed snow. She made a snow angel, too, and my husband took a picture. The shot reminds me of one I took during the snowfall in 2004. The snow angel she made was much smaller, and our snowman was a snow dwarf so tiny it didn't show up in the photo. The hat, coat, and gloves she wore were different then, too, but her smile was the same as on Sunday: wide, dimply, and carefree. It was a God moment. A Designer moment.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
The Dance
On Sunday, our church launched a new arts series. The service had almost every type of fine art represented, including dance. Two wonderful dancers, who are also my friends, performed to a song called "Perfume." They use their bodies to praise and worship God, the Creator of the human body. Each of them have been dancing their whole lives. One of my favorite things about seeing them dance is they smile throughout the performance. The beauty of the dance given in worship, along with the beauty of their smiles, add a special and meaningful element to the service every time.
My daughter took dance when she was in preschool. She and her fellow ballerinas were so cute in their tutus, it was almost painful--I knew those precious moments would not last forever. And they didn't, of course. She quit dance at the end of pre-K.
At our house now, dance involves the two of us boogie-ing to her music in her room and an occasional freestyle shuffle/tango that ends with me dipping her in the finale. Which reminds me, we haven't done that in a while. I'm going to suggest it after school today. After all, moments like that will not last forever.
My daughter took dance when she was in preschool. She and her fellow ballerinas were so cute in their tutus, it was almost painful--I knew those precious moments would not last forever. And they didn't, of course. She quit dance at the end of pre-K.
At our house now, dance involves the two of us boogie-ing to her music in her room and an occasional freestyle shuffle/tango that ends with me dipping her in the finale. Which reminds me, we haven't done that in a while. I'm going to suggest it after school today. After all, moments like that will not last forever.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Marking Grief
Just a quick note to say thank you to Peg Phifer over at Writer to Reader for the special recognition award for Beauty and the Beholder. Here's what she says:
You can read the feature here.
The other day, my friend, Nancy Ring, had an interesting post on her blog, Anchors, Signposts, and Wanderings, about creative ways to mark grief. She asked: "Is there a loss in your life that you would like to honor by creating something? What would you create?"
This is not something I created, but it's a created thing that I shared. At each house where I've lived, I've planted a tree in memory of my first baby and in honor of my second baby, who is now nine years old. It's a wonderful feeling to plant and nurture a beautiful thing for such a purpose--reminders of how precious life is and what a gift our loves ones are.
The first trees were pink cherries. The second pair at the second house were pink dogwoods. They were all beautiful and they bloomed early, reminding me that winter was over and spring was arriving. An ongoing metaphor for my life at the time.
I haven't planted trees at our current house yet, because we want to make a landscape plan first. We will do it, though. Maybe this year?
I try to find unique content that touches me, blesses me, or even challenges me. Yours was a warm and inviting place to spend a few minutes. Thank you for that.
You can read the feature here.
The other day, my friend, Nancy Ring, had an interesting post on her blog, Anchors, Signposts, and Wanderings, about creative ways to mark grief. She asked: "Is there a loss in your life that you would like to honor by creating something? What would you create?"
This is not something I created, but it's a created thing that I shared. At each house where I've lived, I've planted a tree in memory of my first baby and in honor of my second baby, who is now nine years old. It's a wonderful feeling to plant and nurture a beautiful thing for such a purpose--reminders of how precious life is and what a gift our loves ones are.
The first trees were pink cherries. The second pair at the second house were pink dogwoods. They were all beautiful and they bloomed early, reminding me that winter was over and spring was arriving. An ongoing metaphor for my life at the time.
I haven't planted trees at our current house yet, because we want to make a landscape plan first. We will do it, though. Maybe this year?
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
The Beauty of the Moon
The last few weeks, the sun has been rising a little earlier, so when we leave the house for school, there's a bit of light to guide us. Yesterday, as we drove down our street, we saw the moon big and full just ahead. It had a haze around it, which reminded me of the fog a couple of weeks ago. It was so beautiful. I don't tend to think about the moon until I see it, but if it weren't there, I would miss it.
The beauty and mystery of the moon have inspired many people to write songs about it, or about love under the moon, or a longing for love under the moon, or even "I have nobody except the moon." Songs like "Blue Moon," "It's Only a Paper Moon," "Dancin' in the Moonlight," "Carolina Moon," "Moon River and Me", "Moonlight and Roses." These songs make me think of romance, and of Valentine's Day on Saturday.
Then there's "Fly Me to the Moon," which makes me think of The Flintstones, where I first heard Fred sing the song to Wilma. Now that was romantic.
For fun, I looked up some quotes about the moon and of course there are scores of them. Here are a few favorites:
“I like to think that the moon is there even if I am not looking at it.” Albert Einstein

“See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...we need silence to be able to touch souls.”  Mother Teresa of Calcutta
“Beauty is a form of genius - is higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation. It is of the great facts in the world like sunlight, or springtime, or the reflection in dark water of that silver shell we call the moon.”  Oscar Wilde
“When I admire the wonder of a sunset or the beauty of the moon, my soul expands in worship of the Creator.” Mahatma Gandhi

“The moon, like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.” William Blake

And finally, a blessing for you: “May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night and a smooth road all the way to your door.” Irish Blessing
The beauty and mystery of the moon have inspired many people to write songs about it, or about love under the moon, or a longing for love under the moon, or even "I have nobody except the moon." Songs like "Blue Moon," "It's Only a Paper Moon," "Dancin' in the Moonlight," "Carolina Moon," "Moon River and Me", "Moonlight and Roses." These songs make me think of romance, and of Valentine's Day on Saturday.
Then there's "Fly Me to the Moon," which makes me think of The Flintstones, where I first heard Fred sing the song to Wilma. Now that was romantic.
For fun, I looked up some quotes about the moon and of course there are scores of them. Here are a few favorites:
“I like to think that the moon is there even if I am not looking at it.” Albert Einstein

“See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...we need silence to be able to touch souls.”  Mother Teresa of Calcutta
“Beauty is a form of genius - is higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation. It is of the great facts in the world like sunlight, or springtime, or the reflection in dark water of that silver shell we call the moon.”  Oscar Wilde
“When I admire the wonder of a sunset or the beauty of the moon, my soul expands in worship of the Creator.” Mahatma Gandhi

“The moon, like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.” William Blake

And finally, a blessing for you: “May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night and a smooth road all the way to your door.” Irish Blessing
Monday, February 2, 2009
25 Random Memories of Beauty
I'm posting a little early this week. I had lots of fun pulling this together. Hope you enjoy reading it.
Here's a list of 25 random memories of beauty that I love:
1. daily sunrise over the trees outside my bedroom window
2. that memorable sunset one summer night at my old house that had the best view in the neighborhood
3. my dog sailing through the air, her ball in her mouth
4. the view of the Alps from the first-class train in Switzerland
5. strolling the gardens at CS Lewis' home, The Kilns, in England with my husband, who loves Lewis as much as I do
6. my first deer sighting: the baby that stood silhouetted in front of my subdivision sign, surrounded by yummy pansies
7. the cheesecake last Friday night; the "braided" white and milk chocolate sauce was art on the plate (it tasted fabulous too)
8. the moments in front of Monet's Water Lilies that started my pursuit of art and beauty
9. the blue and purple hydrangea blossoms on the tables at my friend's July wedding; she was beautiful too
10. Handel's Messiah performances
11. the redwoods, tall and majestic
12. the wild sea at Carmel
13. the desolation and the promise of Mt. St. Helens
14. the surprise snowfall last January that actually stuck around for a few days
15. the orchid house at the botanical gardens
16. our wedding
17. butterflies as big as my hand landing on our butterfly bushes
18. the pink cherry and dogwood trees I planted for my babies
19. the large, vibrant Jar of Clay painting we bought for our 1st anniversary
20. the pears painting too
21. the Oxford Symphony Orchestra performing classical favorites
22. last year's performance of Cotton Patch Gospel at Theatrical Outfit
23. this line from Big River, the musical based on Huck Finn: "considerable joy, considerable sorrow"
24. the wild rose vine in the dogwood tree down the street from my parents' home
25. favorite books read and re-read like The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
What are some of your favorite memories of beauty? Please leave a comment and let me know.
Here's a list of 25 random memories of beauty that I love:
1. daily sunrise over the trees outside my bedroom window
2. that memorable sunset one summer night at my old house that had the best view in the neighborhood
3. my dog sailing through the air, her ball in her mouth
4. the view of the Alps from the first-class train in Switzerland
5. strolling the gardens at CS Lewis' home, The Kilns, in England with my husband, who loves Lewis as much as I do
6. my first deer sighting: the baby that stood silhouetted in front of my subdivision sign, surrounded by yummy pansies
7. the cheesecake last Friday night; the "braided" white and milk chocolate sauce was art on the plate (it tasted fabulous too)
8. the moments in front of Monet's Water Lilies that started my pursuit of art and beauty
9. the blue and purple hydrangea blossoms on the tables at my friend's July wedding; she was beautiful too
10. Handel's Messiah performances
11. the redwoods, tall and majestic
12. the wild sea at Carmel
13. the desolation and the promise of Mt. St. Helens
14. the surprise snowfall last January that actually stuck around for a few days
15. the orchid house at the botanical gardens
16. our wedding
17. butterflies as big as my hand landing on our butterfly bushes
18. the pink cherry and dogwood trees I planted for my babies
19. the large, vibrant Jar of Clay painting we bought for our 1st anniversary
20. the pears painting too
21. the Oxford Symphony Orchestra performing classical favorites
22. last year's performance of Cotton Patch Gospel at Theatrical Outfit
23. this line from Big River, the musical based on Huck Finn: "considerable joy, considerable sorrow"
24. the wild rose vine in the dogwood tree down the street from my parents' home
25. favorite books read and re-read like The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
What are some of your favorite memories of beauty? Please leave a comment and let me know.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Fog
Through sleep-filled eyes, I tuned in to the day's weather forecast. The forecaster said, "There's a lot of fog out there. Fog is basically a cloud on the ground." A cloud on the ground? There's a poem in there somewhere, I thought, yawning as the dog and I ambled to the kitchen, both of us hungry for breakfast.
When my daughter and I left the house, the air was heavy with the fog. Beautiful but dangerous, especially in the dark. The sun had not yet risen, so I drove slowly, acutely aware of the deer and other creatures in the area, not to mention children on their way to the bus stop. The beams from the headlights seemed solid enough to cut through the wet air while somehow bouncing back at us at the same time. As we rode through the neighborhoods on the way to school, street lights, stop lights, and house lights put off a hazy glow as though they were wrapped in spider webs, wet cocoons that softened and diffused the light.
While I was gone, a friend emailed me Carl Sandburg's poem, Fog. And by the time I read it, the fog had just about moved on. But not before I had thought, there really is a poem in there somewhere, and made a note to myself to push through the fog of everydayness until I find it.
When my daughter and I left the house, the air was heavy with the fog. Beautiful but dangerous, especially in the dark. The sun had not yet risen, so I drove slowly, acutely aware of the deer and other creatures in the area, not to mention children on their way to the bus stop. The beams from the headlights seemed solid enough to cut through the wet air while somehow bouncing back at us at the same time. As we rode through the neighborhoods on the way to school, street lights, stop lights, and house lights put off a hazy glow as though they were wrapped in spider webs, wet cocoons that softened and diffused the light.
While I was gone, a friend emailed me Carl Sandburg's poem, Fog. And by the time I read it, the fog had just about moved on. But not before I had thought, there really is a poem in there somewhere, and made a note to myself to push through the fog of everydayness until I find it.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Premio Dardas Award
My blog has been awarded the "Premio-Dardas" Award today by Brenda Leyland of It's A Beautiful Life. I'm flattered! Here's what Brenda says about it:
"This award 'acknowledges the values that every Blogger displays in their effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values with each message they write.'
Awards like this have been created with the intention of promoting community among Bloggers. It's a way to show appreciation and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web.
I understand this award comes with a couple of rules, and they are:
1. Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who granted it to you, along with his/her blog link.
2. Pass the award to (15) other blogs that you feel are worthy of this recognition. Remember to contact each of them to let them know they have been chosen as recipients.
*Please note: when copying the award picture, please download it to your own computer first and upload from there to your own blog site. I understand you could unwittingly use up other people's band width. Anyone know for sure if that's the case?"
Like Brenda, I find my time limited today more than usual (I don't have my regular post up yet!) so I'm going to keep this list short. I'm passing the award along to these bloggers:
Crystal Miller of Chat n Chew Cafe
Nancy Ring of Anchors, Signposts & Wanderings
Terry Whalin of The Writing Life
Bonnie Bruno of Macro Moments
The marvelous team at Books & Such blog
and at Novel Matters
Thanks, Brenda, for passing the "Premio Dardas" to me.
"This award 'acknowledges the values that every Blogger displays in their effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values with each message they write.'
Awards like this have been created with the intention of promoting community among Bloggers. It's a way to show appreciation and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web.
I understand this award comes with a couple of rules, and they are:
1. Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who granted it to you, along with his/her blog link.
2. Pass the award to (15) other blogs that you feel are worthy of this recognition. Remember to contact each of them to let them know they have been chosen as recipients.
*Please note: when copying the award picture, please download it to your own computer first and upload from there to your own blog site. I understand you could unwittingly use up other people's band width. Anyone know for sure if that's the case?"
Like Brenda, I find my time limited today more than usual (I don't have my regular post up yet!) so I'm going to keep this list short. I'm passing the award along to these bloggers:
Crystal Miller of Chat n Chew Cafe
Nancy Ring of Anchors, Signposts & Wanderings
Terry Whalin of The Writing Life
Bonnie Bruno of Macro Moments
The marvelous team at Books & Such blog
and at Novel Matters
Thanks, Brenda, for passing the "Premio Dardas" to me.
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