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
In pastures rolling
His strength a corner sure
Plant firm my feet
On solid ground
In patience, I'll mature
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.
Let me know what you think of my "movie" A Mossy Poem.
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!
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