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My life is not a mess; I'm changing. (with Updates)
Writers spend hours in concert with their media devices. Typing, editing, creating. Bloggers especially have more than just their pen to attend too.
Outside the window that I spend the majority of my time looking through is a very mature Gum Maple covered with lush green moss. We have four in our front yard. When the sun hits the moss, it is exquisite.
For weeks I have been admiring its bedding of green and tossing around how I could display Oregon beauty.
I challenged my creativity to the mark and spent an hour this afternoon snapping pictures, with my iPhone and Aukey Macro lens. Aren't you amazed what our smartphones are doing? Then set the contest to write from the photo's I had shot in a poem sharing my season, my love to encourage you. Transformation is imperative to me and very important to the Lord. Heaven holds a responsibility to the redemption it provides. For centuries we have just held our hands up when death has called with the mindset that we have arrived on the other side, on cloud Starbucks, with mansions and relationship with the King of Kings and most High God who we may or may not have communed with while in our breathing flesh. That just isn't truth. Death is overcome even if sickness is still stealing. Jesus work was complete. Finished. Here I go again. I wanted to write beautiful words, inspiring words that took my readers away to a place of rest, encouragement and my soap box just sneaks out under my feet. Dang!
A Mossy Poem slide show with music.
Maybe its just best to let the poem breathe...
I'm in the midst of transformation What are all these muted tones Burst of life is coming Then paths naturally show I agreed that pruning profits I shouldn't carry extra weight Oh Praise! a bit of sunshine Illuminates new gate's Away away, to old things Looking forward strong and free I See, I See Light's Glory Hidden in Thee Found rest In pastures rolling His strength a corner sure Plant firm my feet On solid ground In patience, I'll mature 
Mossy trunk of Yuletide Camellia next to my Koi pond
Moss Grass and a supernatural?
In just, I spouted off a bit. I'm sorry. Like the movie shared so brilliantly. Heaven is for Real. Ask God questions in a way desiring the kind of answers that will challenge your theology. Then will talk more. I do love my readers. You're very brave. All God's forerunners are brave and courageous. I appreciate your comments.
That's enough for now. Blessings Kristen Let me know what you think of my "movie" A Mossy Poem.
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Hope was never supposed to have a suffix attached to it.
This morning I was about my morning chores balancing a cup of thick coffee. Feed the Koi, snip some dandelion leaves to add to my Zebra Finches meal, the second cup of coffee. Sometimes we walk paths half blind in our daily routines. We can do it in our sleep, go through the motion of the mundane. Same ole same ole. I slip Don's oversize hot tub shoes nestled at the back door over my fuzzy slippers, instant galoshes. Sneak quick under the eves; just a few feet away is a plethora of the nourishing weed. Hey, it's not raining?
Joy! Dance, Sun and blue sky. Last weekend I had snail baited AGAIN making war against those hungry slither-er's, how dare they make a meal out of my garden. One bite out of a Hosta and I look at it all summer long. Gosh! Balancing in my makeshift galoshes, bathrobe dandy, my pioneering spirit, caught a delight that I didn't see last week. Violets! Sweet English Violets. Runners running popping bursts of fragrant purple sugar, tipped for fairy hats, tucked in vibrant hues, green, mahogany petals. I love them! They can pop up anywhere in my yard and I will through a party for their natural wandering perfection.
And to think I was thinking of parting with my collection of nic nac violet china cups. Oh, spring cleaning bug! Drats! Now I'm singing with you a song of a lady dancing in her sweat pants and workout clothes, her iPhone in camera mode, bursting into for my ignored porcelain hiding in a dusty antique liquor cabinet. What must my neighbors think as I'm laying on the front lawn, (bowing-poofing) meaning, making something from nothing, as my brothers use to say? We have, A thousands gifts to unpack. Carrying two large baskets haphazardly filled with antique delights. All for the eye of the Beholder! You! I thoroughly enjoyed myself! Victoria Magazine's got nothing on me. Hah! The next time I looked up Don was shaking the front door with his keys. Oh no, Dinner! I pleaded mercy and Mexican food, but he chose, snacks, hot tub and cigar.
I disclosed my intent and paraded my yard to share a smile, to write with a spontaneous pen of my camera lens adventures. Today the sunshine married antiques and violets, angels and poetry. A transformation assignment from heaven, removing the (less-ness) from Hope, fragility into strength, courage to communicate anew, with those who have shared a cup of sorrow.
I share with you the mystery of communion, Hearld the angel's response from the Throne of Grace, need-exchange to mercy. My Oregon "Son", to shine divinely by His command into your heart. All things are possible for those who believe. Bless You!
More Beautiful posts and video's
Updated pictures
Just a hint, it's that time of year, to sort out those root bound pots for glorious patio drama. Mine have been in the urns for about three years, which has left me with the multiplication of ferns, mini hosta's and returning fuschias. Yippee! It's like a free trip to the garden center. Make easy cleanup and throw down a small tarp to catch the debris. I dropped by Garlands Garden Center, (Garlands Blog)I'm spoiled it's only 1/2 mile from my house, picked up some 4 in. pink begonias (less expensive when small but have a big showy voice come summer, watch for any frost, I'm taking a early chance on a terrific payoff),
Johnny-jump-up's for the front walk-bed, and I'm off and running. Just a little love, separating those root bound plants goes a long way for summer color. I fill my pots with many different varieties of ferns and mini Hosta's which saves on the pocketbook when it comes to re-purchasing annuals every year. A couple of favorites that I baby in this zone are my citrus trees and my flowering maples. Lemon and Lime need to be in the garage thru the cold months, I feel extra blessed when my flowering maples make it thru the winter. Dining graciously is all about that summer patio that says Wow when your guest's come for a barbecue. If you wait too long, tender shoots will argue with your transplanting, March/April in the Pacific Northwest is an excellent time. Another reminder snails are already doing damage out there so get the snail bait out! Early Hosta's are up, Dinosaur Food plant is a yummy meal for slugs.
Dangling Carrots: Great pots that bless for many years!
Spring pot planting
Enjoy other gardening and transformation blogs posts
My husband Don helped me out turning the pots upside down, shaking and digging the roots out. I used a large machete to separate with a nice clean slice. Re-fill your pots with good quality soil, it pays in the long run, aerate the bottom of the pot with gravel, sand or even shipping peanuts. Set newly planted pots where they can get plenty of spring rain and shaded from a burst of hot sun. There you have it. I'll post more picture's throughout the season. Happy Gardening.
Re-Cap pots 5 & 12 days latter, look at the growth, happy happy happy......
x
Things on your gardening ta do list!
Hearing & Listening
A follow-up to"A Mossy Poem."
Last week I was on my way to a leadership meeting, left the house a little early hoping to snag a moment of sunshine breaking through a mid-March day. A Break in the Weather. Susan and Steve's farm is out Oak-creek past Bald Hill, we gather, relishing a quiet snug office tucked upstairs in their horse pavilion. A place of ease in which to hear God's voice among dear friends, even with an ole yellow tabby noisily pressing the sliding glass door, desperate for attention from his watchful barn duties. Smells of horses, sounds of chickens pushing pecking order for the night, a trio of ducks oblivious in light of dusk, waddling, wa wa wa is the song. No competition for heaven to creep in. Yeh! I had about forty-five minutes to stretch my legs, shake my thoughts and seek attentively into His voice for continuing encouragements to challenges that daily question me. Just moments from location my sights were set on the backside park of Bald Hill. Out of my car, a quick stretch with deep breath releasing burdens, as they leave, my ears catch waters rushing under the foot bridge, zip my jacket fending off more chill than had already set on my bones, down the path my spiritual attention, conversing before words culminate. I'm with Him. See who greets me? 
Was he flooded or fording to early breeding grounds?
This Rough-skinned Newt without long hello's, twisting crawl, shying my camera lens. He is a familiar friend, I remember Him, with hundreds of relatives down Highland road at McGills farm pond, thru the thicket. I don't remember if we had permission to be there, but you could hardly walk, the edges of the murky pond moving with brown and orange slither.
How many of us filled a Kerr jar with grass and set him in temporary confinement, perched prize on our nightstand till Mom had pity and set him free.
Is what you seek hidden, embraced within a divine word tucked here or there? I desire it is so. Hmm? What would you ask about my few moments with Him? These post's also might help.
Psalm 139:23, Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Anxious thoughts can also be translated as "Vexing pathways". To ask God to know my heart. Actually, my heart is a place of love, humility, honesty. You can refer to it as my gate of first love. My spirit. Daily I open the door/gate/spirit to Jesus and invite Him in to come and sit on the seat or headship of my life. That is a governing position. I'm also very bold to say, searching goes both way, I want to know Your heart. I understand it like this, test me if there are any "vexing pathways" and lead me into all right standing. Well, I've just given Him permission to search, to know, believe me, He tests. What does He test? Mindsets, my will's or will not's! My past patterns, anger, impatience, touchiness, etc. Pathways or negative ways as I walk thru life that isn't part of His plan and purpose for me. I may not even know why I respond the way that I do at times. Sometimes it's learned patterns, protective patterns or a demonic influence. Those block me from standing right. Or, being close to Him and relying on Him entirely. Sickness is never, never a test, PERIOD! That's against His nature and the finished work of Jesus. That is why it is so important to hear Papa. Even my little Newt friend went through a maturing from a juvenile in the water much like a frog or toad until he matured and was able to explore outside his amphibious world. Hearing and listening equal understanding the spirit realm around me, around Him, using a different set of "Breathing apparatus" like the Newt. Takes practice, faith, seeking, most of all believing what Jesus shows you.
See these Pussy Willows and their new buds? There thriving in this pre-spring conditions. Bursting fuzzy shell held in tender green cup. Listening, hearing, perception. Look at the oscillating picture. The camera view is much the same. The lens is fighting to focus on what it thinks is the highlight of the photo. You could concentrate on the buds in the foreground, or cast your eyes into the still winter bare woods behind. What about the grass's that soften the midst? Problems, hindrances, even good things can be subject to depth or choice of perception just like our camera lens.
You know that saying: "You can't see the forest for the trees". A couple of ways to quote it: "He is so caught up in her affection that he " can't see the forest for the trees." "He is too busy on the outside looking in that he can't see the forest for the trees." God is a spirit. How does a Holy, Spirit communicate? Yes, God speaks through His word. Yes, God is multilingual are you? Transformation is not just about the cleansing work of the blood. My ears both spiritual and natural need to be transformed to hear, then to listen, receive understanding. If we only look at part of the picture we may miss the picture. Let's take for instance "Miss understandings" how do they occur? Usually because of a pre-existing condition on either the part of the communicator or listener. Same goes for our relationship with God. Pre-existing conditions can clog the airwaves so to speak. "You can't see the forest for the trees". Just like all the different depths of view in the Pussy Willow collection. Ephesians 3:18 & 19 may you be able to comprehend with ALL the saints (heaven included) what is the breadth and length and height and depth, May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. We have only scratch the surface. I will continue to spend years learning to be spiritually multilingual, One of my favorite old time hymns, I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses, and the voice I hear whispering in my ear, the Son of God discloses.......... 
I've enjoyed sharing my "Newt" friend, with you.
A great "Break in the Weather". I encourage you to set aside some time to continue to learn to listen. Ask many questions. You may ask me questions via comments. Happy to help! Till we meet again in the garden....
Photographs of Bald Hill Park Benton County Oregon,
linked and photographer credited 
Nothing brings me greater joy than to highlight a talent, gift that I have access too. My Mom, Photographer, Master gardener & former Iowa farmer girl. Residing in Oregon since 1964. Many of our families have trekked from the MidWest, thru California and then settled down to raise our families in the Pacific North West. I am on the receiving end of this journey.
When many Oregonians start complaining about the rain and short durations of snow, the lens of my Mom's camera quickly reminds us of the beauty we have, day in and day out in Oregon, should we look from a grateful perspective? That is what I love about my Mom's camera viewpoint. Growing up and still today I always laugh because she has many many more pictures of landscaping than of people. I won't even start with the horse pictures; that's another story. When going for drives, whether the Oregon Coast or up an acclaimed highway to the mountains, my Mom is always waiting for people to get out of her camera frame. Including family! A different culture, a different aspect. Growing up at the end of the Oregon trail has been nothing short of a beginning for many. I'll share a secret, if you pause for just a moment, look real close in the photo's I share of hers there is more to see, love to capture. (More on Partnering with Pintrest) Only found within the shutter click of home. Thanks Mom Beauty of Winter by Erla Richards
Currently featured on FineGardening Magazine. Jan. 2017 by Kim Charles
"We have had more than 18 inches of rain since the first of October here in Independence, Oregon. But, I love this time of year. To be able to sit in the warmth of my home, watch football with a blanket and cat on my lap, and look out the window and see the silhouetted branches, the birds that depend on us for sustenance, the changing winter sky . . . all the gifts God bestows to us . . . I am blessed."
Sunrise through bare Pin Oak branches
Full moon through winter bare oaks
Yuletide Camellia that dares bloom this time of year.
Old walnut tree against a winter sky
Rare clear blue sky through Ash branches
Stunning beauty of the hungry Stella Jays that grace us
with their presence. 
Partridge in a pear tree? No, robins in an Ash, waiting for Spring
Weathering the cold at the suet feeder
Husband calls to come see fog drops on a spider web.
A visitor strolling by bare thicket glowing in sunset
Foggy silhouettes
Highlighted Beauty
AGAIN: I'll share a secret, if you pause for just a moment, look real close in the photo's I share of hers there is more to see, love to capture.
Only found within the shutter click of home. Thanks Mom
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