These are the moments that make it all worth it.
When the days are long and my giving body
can’t keep up with the sun like she used to.
You settle into the beginning of quiet time
and the boy who always has one more question…
“Mom? Can I go downstairs and get the world map?
I’m gonna teach John everything I know.”
You can’t say no to that.
You can’t help but want to watch and listen, quietly, of course.
Hush now, this is holy ground.
These are secrets only brothers share.
I like the paintings of Thomas Kinkade, the artist known as the Painter of Light. They are warm, peaceful, and beautiful. Others have mixed feelings about them, saying, “The dilemma with Kinkade’s art is that he sweeps human suffering under the rug. It sees the world through a pre-Fall lens. His paintings are a big fat lie.”
I get the point of facing the hard things of life, that artists have to grapple with a world full of pain and heartache. I don’t see Kinkade’s work coming from a pre-Fall lens, but rather a post-Cross one. He paints the world not as it was, but as the world is and ever shall be. He paints with the eyes of faith. That was his gift.
Faith is the gift of divine blindness.
If all we see is what we see
Hope becomes the merciless villian.
The moon swallows the sun
banning the birth of a new beginning.
Believe me when I say to you
the Truth has come through lying eyes.
Behold the Lamb of God
when you wonder if there can be anything good.
Thank the Lord and sing His praise
for the blinding way of walking in the Light.
Remember when you and I painted the shed?
You were a tough nut to crack, that’s for sure. The conversation felt like a game of 20 questions. I asked you something, you gave me the answer. So what kind of music do you like? You got any brothers or sisters? How’d you end up working here?
We’d only known of each other but a couple of days. By then I was already dreaming of me and Chris’s wedding. He was tall, funny, and as far as I was concerned, the most attractive member of the male staff cabin, both in personality and appearance.
What did I know? Not a whole lot, I can tell you that much. When I think back, trying to figure out what it was about us, when it wasn’t a stirring passion, and it wasn’t an instant connection, I can only think of one thing. I was not the slightest bit self-conscious.
I wasn’t afraid.
The time has come to pull out the summer bag of magic tricks.
I know kids are gonna get bored, and in a way I think they need to be bored, for boredom is often the springboard of creativity, but I personally don’t believe in the words boredom and summer occupying space in the same sentence for too long. As the highest heavens cannot contain the Almighty, children cannot remain bound to the four corners of the house.
You’ve gotta leave room for the imagination.
There was no choice but to go for the one thing we needed most
something guaranteed to make everybody happy.
I never thought I’d say this, never imagined it would ever come to this
I’m even considering getting the oldest boy signed up for baseball camp.
Go ahead kids.
Each one of you can pick a treat.
Now let’s see what we can come up with.
We need meals for the rest of the week
and something special for tonight.
We’re gonna have a picnic out under the stars.
I am weak in the knees with gratitude
for churches to visit
children to teach
tidings of great joy
potato fields to play in
family to invite us over
memories of days gone by
smiles of a little girl
and fathers to adore and love.