I Wanna Hold Your Haaaaand....

There were a lot of people holding hands today....or maybe it was just that I was noticing it more. Lots of couples...parents and children.

I love to hold hands. I am a touchy feelie kind of person...I hug people...a lot. I grasp their shoulder, or stroke their arm or lay my hand on their face when I am talking to them. I hold their hand when I want to tell them something important. I need to touch people...I am not weird okay, it's just about love and not the awkward you're too close to me love...

There is something about the human hand that is so necessary to another person...touch is stimulating. Did you know there are over 17000 nerve endings on the human hand and that in one square centimeter on a finger tip there are 1300 nerve receptors? And they all go straight to the brain....they give us awareness that another person is near.

From the time we are born on the earth we are touched by human hands...the doctor delivers, the parent holds, strokes, tickles...we hold their hand to cross the street, we reach for it when we are nervous or uncertain...it gives strength to hold a hand, security. When we are young we reach for a friend's hand to show affection, to claim our bestie...

In the bloom of love, the first touch is often hand to hand....the hand creeps across the table to stroke the other, it breaks a smile upon their face, fingers twine and hold on. Throughout this most important chosen relationship in our lives, our hands are connectors to the other....in strength, anger, weakness, despair, joy, passion, elation....we communicate so much through the touch of a mere fingertip...I love holding hands with my husband, the swirl of his thumb in my palm or a stroke across my knuckle...it's a casual, familiar thing...and yet not.

When we despair, we grasp on with our hands...to runaway spouse, to a sick child, a dying parent, a memory we don't want to lose...I held my mother's hand as she took her last breaths on this earth...I don't know if she knew, but I did. I needed it.

We have been made with touch in mind...with hands that hold great power, formed by them. He could have spoke us into creation but instead He formed us with His very hands...He wanted to touch us....He still does, He still holds us.

Psalm 119:73 (MSG) With your very own hands you formed me; ... Oh, love me—and right now!—hold me tight! just the way you promised. Now comfort me so I can live, really live;

He is not far away....He reaches out to us daily, even by the moment...wanting desparately to take our hand and lead the way....'I wanna hold your haaaaaaand....I wanna hold your hand', He croons softly to you. And when you answer yes, and grasp on to the stongest most capable Hand ever, then He also holds you in His hands, protected and loved, as well...

No better place to be...

Seriously...???

I have had a lousy couple of weeks....aside from getting my nails done and they are a really pretty sparkly pink(that's called self-care) ...and it's not promising to get any better....

I don't really stress. I don't internalize crap. In fact, I do the opposite. I talk about what's bugging me...usually with anybody who is willing to listen...and then I write about it, especially about the things that frustrate me.

Oh sure there are the little things...like how my husband leaves the television on in every room he walks into that has one....once all three of them were on in the house and he was in the garage watching one there...like how my son walks into the house and leaves a path of his stuff as he passes through...backpack at the door, coat on the couch, hat on the chair, shoes at the patio door...those things don't even faze me anymore. I notice them and shake my head...but no stress. I do things that tick them off too...it's about living with those you love and putting up with it.

There are things at work that get me a little more worked up...the ineptitude of people, not being informed, feeling less than prepared for whatever at no fault of my own.

But what really gets my goat and makes me cry in frustration is when people with responsibility, and significant responsibility...especially in the support of people in their care...that drop the ball, sluff work off on others, fail to plan or communicate....and then when you take initiative and forge ahead have the gall to call your efforts insubordination.

Seriously???.....I'm gonna get 'er done, and you can just sit in the back seat and watch like you usually do, bucko....cause you haven't earned the right to tell me otherwise.

Urrrrrgggggghhhhh.....

I wish I could say all that in real life....

Sweet possiblities

Hope is a fragile delicate thing, but so precious and lovely we want to hold onto it with both hands...

I love the beginning of new adventures and all the what ifs, and maybes, and dreams....and hope...oh the sweet hope of ...something better, something right, something repeated, something precious....

“Many of the great achievements of the world were accomplished by tired and discouraged men who kept on working.” Sigmund Freud

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” -Oscar Wilde

“Hope is the dream of a soul awake.” Aristotle

“Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark.” George Iles

“Those who wish to sing always find a song.” Swedish Proverb

“Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all.” Emily Dickinson

“Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up.” Anne Lamott

"A leader is a dealer in hope." Napoleon Bonaparte

Ah, to live the adventure...to reach out to that fragile bubble of hope with both hands and believe you can hold it forever...

You can...

They call me KD...

Yes, I am named after a box of cheap, pseudo-cheesy noodles...it kinda of makes sense if you know me at all...but it is the most beloved name to me...

For the past 11 years I have spent at least one week, usually two weeks, and a couple of times even three weeks each summer at a lovely spot in the Waiparous Valley called Camp Chamisall...no it is not named after a piece of women's lingerie but an acronym for Christian and Missionary Alliance (CH-A-MISS-ALL). And it is my favourite place on earth outside of my own backyard. Why you ask? Because God is visibly and tangibly at work there...and I get to be a spectator and a sometimes contributor.

This place rejuvenates me and exhausts me like no other place on earth...if home is where God fills me, then camp is where He empties me. And it is a joyous exhaustion.

I am now 49 years old and I spend the majority of my time with young people who are some 25-35 years younger than I but it is for a week in this magical place that I feel most effective in their lives. Here I live with them 24/7 for 6 days and God makes miracles happen.

I just spent this past week with ten lovely young women in a cabin in the woods...we played hard physical games (or at least they did and I was their cheerleader), ate a lot of food that could not in the slightest way be called diet and the majority would not be healthy (but oh, it tastes so good), danced to 80s music, sang ourselves hoarse in worship and we talked...oh, we talked so much, about such important things, about funny things, about heart piercing things. Would you like a list??

Sex - the who, the what, the where, the how....and God's plan for it
Parents - the secrets they didn't know
The role of men and women in marriage
The role of men and women in the church
Roller coasters
Demons and spiritual warfare
Families and their brokeness
Divorce
The masks we wear
The 1980s
Forgiveness and if its possible
What we need most from God
How to please and trust God
Movies and TV shows
Our wide paths and the narrow ones we'd like to be on
The Life of Pi, other religions and the apologetics of our faith
End times, Revelations and what heaven will be like
The impossibility of getting the milk/cereal ratio just right
Evolution and creation science
Boys/men/husbands
Being an Elijah
How our only hope to survive our lives is Jesus...

We laughed until our sides hurt....we cried our eyes red...we felt helpless in the pain of our suffering...we felt joy in the hope of heaven...and we loved, so much it was almost painful....we left there knowing no problems in our lives were solved but we felt more ready to take them on.

This place is a cocoon of love and trust and a place that is utterly safe to fall apart in. And then we are put back together in a new way, somehow more complete and able.

There is no other place I would rather give a week of my life to....

Coming soon to an Autumn near you...

It's almost my favourite time of year....

In spring, (such as we have in this country), I long for the long sunshiny days of summer, (such as we get in this country). I do love the sun and lazy times where I don't have to get up and go anywhere or do anything I don't feel like...( well, there's my job, but I don't count that).

And while I've had busy times this summer...a mission trip to Belarus, a couple of weeks volunteering at camp....there is really no routine, no must do's...

In the two and a half weeks between the mission trip and camp I watched no less than 22 movies and read 8 books...over 400 pages each!! And mostly by myself.

You see I pour out a lot of myself during the course of a year...through family, ministry, work...and I hidey hole up with a book or a movie and immerse myself in someone else's story instead of mine in order to rejuvenate. It's usually a fluffy movie or book...Lord knows, I have enough reality in my life, I don't need it in my entertainment.

But through the summer my routine falls by the wayside...I flutter here and there, no boundaries....And I love routine, focus, pursuit of what is good.

Autumn is coming home to me....home to family times, home to rountine in work, home to weekly ministry and fruition of plans. It's time to put away the constant movies and books and get back to a really good reality...purposeful and on a path...

I know it's coming, I look forward to it. I am already making plans...but then, I do have a few weeks before it all kicks off...maybe just a few more books....just a few more movies....

A magical time...

Observations from Harry Potter
-No one should name their child Dudley
-Three-headed dogs should have a more manly name than Fluffy
-Regular spiders are creepy; giant talking spiders with a gazillion babies are terrifying
-The only good Basilisk is a blind, dead Basilisk
-Phoenix tears are handy
-Werewolves are really very nice except for a bad day or two once a month, as a woman I can relate to this
-All girls should move with flourish and produce butterflies when they walk like the girls from Beauxbatons
-Robert Pattinson made a better Cedric than an Edward.
- Goblet of Fire was the last fun HP before they all got dark and really creepy
-"We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are. " Truth, Sirius, truth.
-Centaurs are effective in the punishment of Pepto Bismol-wearing, kitten-loving nags
-Brooding white-blonde young men should be avoided at all costs
-Sometimes what appears as the greatest evil can be used for the greatest good...good-bye Albus.
-Magic tents are the bomb...seriously...compact and roomy.
-Witch girls named Luna were hippies in another life.
-Wands are finicky and should not be trusted.
-Oh Severus...what a man will do for the love of a woman...and her son by another man, namely her husband.
-Harry looks good at 35.

There has been much said about the Harry Potter books and movies over the years...especially in Christian circles...most of it not very positive. When the books first came out, my kids were 10, 7 & 5 and they were avid readers. There was and always has been talk of limiting exposure (and outright banning) of the books to protect our children from unsafe and evil influences. It has never been my way. I want my children to know strength in their convictions, and to be discerning in their choices. I never could be with them all the time...screening the movies or television they watch, the music they listen to, where they surf the internet, or the books they read. So when the books came out, I read the first three to them and we talked about what was good, what wasn't and whether they were worth their while to read.

We have all read them...the characters are solid, the storyline full bodied and engaging....I am not a fan of fads and immersion into the storylines...idolization basically. I am just talking about entertainment...Harry Potter is a classic story about the struggle between good and evil. There are parallels to Christianity...though Rowling would deny it...I can see truth there. I am not going to base my theology on the books...but I can see the good.

So thanks Harry, for the entertainment...it has been a literary and cinematic era...one we will continue to enjoy from time to time....

On another note, I watched all eight HP films in the space of 46 hours this weekend...this is why I fill my time with other things the majority of the year...my life would be all books and movies other wise...

After the battle...

I feel like I've been in a war zone for the past six months...horrific battles, near misses, direct hits...nothing that has shaken the basic foundation, but there are minute scars everywhere; pinpricks of pain; shrapnel. Some of them are pretty big, not quite healed, but getting there...who am I kidding, most of them are not yet healed.

I am in a period of reflection...like I'm sitting on the dock watching deep dark clouds roll away and taking stock of the damage, wondering if I am still intact...not wanting to move from the chair...I shiver at the thought of the fight, but see through the clouds that the sun is there...none of it was in vain...





I wonder how veterans stand it....the memory of war...it must be the look in the faces of the loved ones around them, and despite the hurt and scars, there is a joy in the surviving...inexplicable...And in looking at the aftermath you can see the small victories....the sweet spots that the enemy didn't touch, that he can never touch. And there is evidence of your presence in the midst of the flurry...a word you spoke, a hug you gave, a tear offered in compassion, a wisdom that was needed...such small offering amidst the devastion of loss...loss of health, loss of relationship, loss of life, loss of hope...but it was something, some small thing and it might have meant something to just one, even only one...and it makes the battle worth it...every minute.

I love the stillnees of the lake water after the storm, the ray of the sun streaming through the cloud, the gentle drip of moisture from the the tree, the fresh crispness of the air....and I revel in that...it all seems so vivid and new and teaming with possibility....

I don't want another battle anytime soon but I'm sure there will be one...but in the meantime, I'm just going to sit in reflection as these storm clouds roll away and enjoy the sweet moments experienced in the midst of it all...while the wounds begin to heal...

It's June

It's June.... Everything culminates in June. I have more wind ups to go to and put on than a grandfather clock. I love it all...I love my job, I love my volunteer work in theatre and with dear young people. I don't need to watch TV, I manage to eat and get sleep and get all the tasks done and love some people up while I am doing it. I am calm and I don't stress. I am passionate about what I do...all of it.



I have periods of rest...where I am not in the midst of doing everything I do. I retreat in my body...I disconnect from the doing....but rarely does my mind stop planning the next thing.




This is my world...my life...not everyone understands it...in fact few do. I am not wasting my life, I am filling it, every moment with people and things I LOVE, absolutely love...I am using it well. I make a difference. I care deeply. I have great purpose. It fills me with great joy. So why the flip do I have to explain myself to every Tom, Dick, Harry, Jane, Jill and June that I do NOT live a frantic half life. Why do people feel the need to put a 'How to Say No' book anonymously in my church mailbox. Seriously?




I get tired. I rest. I am not going to burn out. I am not running myself into the ground. I hate it when I get sick and people shake their heads at me and say, "You should slow down. You're wearing yourself down. It's no wonder you're sick. " People, viruses make you sick, germs make you sick. Doing stuff does not make you sick. I am not worn out. I am busy. I am not stressed. I am efficient.



I will not sit back, not now. I will NOT take it easy, because going hard is better....way better. I live with no regrets. I live knowing I am doing ALL I can. I am not trying to control or take over, I just want to do what I do well...and most of the time I succeed to the benefit of others and to the joy in my heart from knowing that.




That's what I want as my epitaph....She gave her all, all the time, in all she did. I will die with the deep sigh, going on to glory with the satisfaction of knowing I did my best.



So....hey...don't give me grief. Thank you.

Ouch...

It is amazing how one short conversation can pierce so deeply. They're only words...but oh Lord...so many of them have been spoken...by me....to me....it's hard to forget. I try to forgive...I hope I'm forgiven. Broken so many times, I'm not sure it can mend again...oh, jeez....owie, ouch, dang...it hurts...

There's only one place to go...everytime...Only the Healer will do...


Savior I come
Quiet my soul remember
Redemptions hill
Where Your blood was spilled
For my ransom
Everything I once held dear
I count it all as lost

Lead me to the cross
Where Your love poured out
Bring me to my knees
Lord I lay me down

Rid me of myself
I belong to You
Lead me, lead me
to the cross

To your heart
To your heart
Lead me to your heart
Lead me to your heart

Simplicity

I don't lead a simple life...I don't think many do. It's complicated and messy...and busy. Relationships are imperfect. There is pain in people's lives...people I love dearly. Plans don't work out the way you want them to. And when they do work out, they are all on the same weekend and you may end up regret making some of them. Just sayin'... Then there are the hopes and dreams; some get dashed and some become more beautiful than you ever imagined, but Lordy, they take a lot of work either way. Romance is desired, but there are precious few sweet moments of it.

I think while life is complicated we do have moments of simplicity...so beautiful and often unexpected that they steal your breath away. And they may come at the oddest times. It takes some skill to recognize them, but once you look for them, they do appear. And they are treasures.
My simplicity....


Coffee with cream and buttered toast in the kitchen on a quiet Sunday morning with nowhere to go. The sun shining through the open window and the sound of chickadees twittering in one ear and the soft rumble of my husband's snores in the other...









A dark, solitary, early morning after a dark, emotional, painful night in the Argentine desert, and the blackness lifted, in numerous ways, by the sun rising bringing the brightest most orange light ever seen, soooo large in the sky and bringing with it a promise of the constancy of God...

Laying in an open field in the middle of a summer night shivering from the dew damp ground beneath, swathed in blankets and huddled with some of the dearest young women in the world, staring up at a pitch black sky, littered with innumerable pinpricks of light, murmuring of inconsequentional, silly and life changing things....




Relaxing in a recliner on a Sunday evening after a busy weekend, and hearing the sounds of young people...laughing, praying, crying, reading God's word....drifting up from the downstairs rec room...knowing they could be a hundred other places but they choose here...with each other...to be where you are...

A family dinner, where all are gathered after having been long apart...not all is calm or even right between each other...but all are together within the walls of the place we call home, and while not always easy...it is the only time that home is right...when they are all there, safe for the moment. And there is a sweet possibility of hope for something better for us all...

There have been a hundred other moments where the sweet simplicity...the sweet truth of the moment is so profound, my heart expands to a point I don't believe my body could bear. And I feel all the complexity and importance in what we do from day to day fade to just these simple, precious treasures....life is really not that complex at all.

Finished...

John 19: V29-30
A jar of sour wine was sitting there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put it on a hyssop branch, and held it up to his lips. When Jesus had tasted it, he said, "It is finished!" Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit

Have you ever given a thought as to how you would like to die? I mean we are all going to do it, so it would be nice if we had a say in the matter…even if we really don’t. There are a thousand at least, if not a million ways to go. You could choose the adventurers death….lost in the Bermuda triangle and a storm drowns you, or in your attempt to climb Mount Everest you freeze to death. Maybe you want a romantic death….collapsing of a broken heart only to have your love return barely before it beats its last. No one I am sure would choose a lingering death from a wasting disease or a tragic death in a car accident or a natural disaster…or a terrorist attack, or a brutal murder of passion. Truthfully there is no adventure, or romance or beauty in death. It is the end a body, a beautiful creation made to live…and it strives to live even the harshest of circumstances. The intricate workings of the human body strive to outlive cancer, catastrophe, and even old age. As my 90+ grandmother lay in her hospital bed, her body succumbing to congenital heart failure, it took weeks for her to pass away, her body slowly shutting down, circulation, breathing, heartbeats….but it kept on trying to do what it was meant to…and yet pulling back bit by bit as it gave in to expiry. I think her soul was long ready to leave this world before her body was…it was a painful separation. I saw my mom die from complications due to cancer…and a baby of a friend perish as he gave into the many ills his little body was born with….there is no glamour in death…just loss. So how really do I want to do this…this dying to this world? Can you do it well?



How Jesus died….far too soon….is the most brutal of deaths…and in a way no one would choose. But the most incredible amazing thing is…He did choose it. And He chose it as atonement for sin…and even more incredible, He chose it not to save Himself, for our sake, for your sake. He was the only man to choose the time and true manner of His death. Some of you will says suicide is a choice, and while it is, it is also a mutation of death born on twisted lies that bring skewed thinking. I believe that it is an enemy that uses suicide to murder and destroy. This cannot be called a personal choice. It is not of God. When Jesus gave up His earthly life, He knew He had accomplished what He came to do, and it was finished. And I do not want His choice to be in vain. I want to live Holy, set apart to do His work so others may know who He is. He CHOSE not only to die, but to suffer and die for me, so I want to live now. This life is a poor substitute to the one He sacrificed for me, but I want to live my life in a way that honours and glorifies Him and His sacrifice. I want to sail through the Bermuda Triangle to the other side, climb Mount Everest, I want to avoid or survive disease, tragedy, and catastrophe, and I want to LOVE people, look into their eyes and say it loud and clear, ‘I love you’ and mean it with every fibre of my being…and I want to do it to my last breath…whenever that is. If I could choose…I would fall asleep one night in my 90s, never to arise again, with a smile on my face, and whispering, ‘It is finished’ knowing my time here is done and I did all I could to bring glory to the sacrifice He gave.

It's gonna rain sometimes...

Just how can I make it better...all better? You would think after all this time...I'm 48 1/2 years old...I would have learned that I cannot fix it all. I don't even know if it is an admirable trait any longer to want to fix it up. I have two parts of me at war...equally strong...and in the moments of utter grief or anger or frustration or determination, when my human heart strains to fix things, to pick it up, whatever the ill and mold it to what I need it to be to find relief...for the suffering around me, for the ill will of another against me or mine own, for justice or mercy where there just is NONE...in those moments, my Spirit-filled heart says NO...STOP... GIVE IT UP.

The whisper comes to my ear in the gently falling rain, or in the howling wind, or in the bitter cold...and says, 'Give it to Me...it is Mine to work out in human hearts...not yours to solve, beloved. You, my darling child, must just love...that is what I call you to.'

But why love and have no power to fix that which is wrong??? Why???

I would bear it all willingly...so many times I have bourne my own struggles, that I know...believe that I could do it for others...

'No,' He whispers...'I have already bourne it...it is finished...'

What arrogance I have, what gall...to think I could be Him...I feel pitifully insignificant and ineffective...and so I should be compared to Him.

I know my place....my calling...it is hidden in the Spirit-filled heart of mine, the one that struggles with my human heart of great will...it is my calling to be His conduit of love, to pour it out until dry...and point the way to Him, who never runs dry.

It is a good place...the best calling....I really would not have it any other way...it's just freakin' hard for the human heart of me to understand.

Heart's Desire

It's been a rough few weeks...just lots going on, heart hurting stuff....so I took a sidetrip from life on the weekend, to evaluate, to retreat, to re-connect and have a chat with God. It works that way sometimes. Until I shut down and shut off life for a time, I can't hear the Voice I need to.

So I got in my car, cranked the worship tunes and cruised...I began to hear Him a very few minutes after I got in the car. I drove over 200 kms in three hours, stopped a few places, prayed, read the Word, walked, listened. He spoke about my life, and gave me some insight, some wisdom, some peace, some joy and a lot of comfort. But it wasn't without a reminder.

I walked along a river at one point...there was still a lot of snow...but I parked myself on a slightly wet picnic table bench and listened to the water flowing...bubbling and gurgling along. I saw a little bird, an American Dipper, I know now, standing on a rock in the middle of the flowing water, and every now and then it would just dive off it's rock into the water and disappear for a moment and then bob up again, the current dragging it downstream. It would dive a number of times and then flutter and swim and end up on the solid rock again. Then it would trill its pretty song before it began all over again.

Now I can make an analogy out of anything, but being in the contemplative mood I was in, I saw the bird portraying my recent life....diving into life and then bobbing in and out of situations that drag me along with them, feeling tossed around and finding my way back to the Rock again and singing His praises. It brought me to tears, thinking over those crazy situations...and I had a very audible conversation with God...it was in my head but I heard it there clear as day, from my hurting heart...

Terry: You know the desires of my heart?

God: Yes, I do.

Terry: Will I have them?

God: You'll have Me.

Not what I want but what He wants me to want. If He is the desire of my heart, then I will have all I desire. And why would He not be? For He loves me best, He knows best for me, so why would I not choose His desire for my life, over mine?

And so I shall....

Warfare

2 Timothy 4:16 At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. 17 But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was delivered from the lion's mouth. 18 The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen Seriously?? Seriously you pathetic miserable beast? Is that all you got you slimy worm of a serpent? You think you can make me quit by attacking the ones I love in their weaknesses? Never. I will choose faith every time. I am weary and heartsick and so frustrated. But I will protect the ones I love. I will proclaim freedom in Christ until my last breath over all my loved ones here and around the world and because of it, they will be the hope of the world. I will choose faith and love every single time. You are defeated, so take a back seat, you bastard, because nothing you can do will make me give up. I am His. Onward.

Tiny Dancer

She used to dance all over the house. She rarely walked...just twirled, and leapt and sashayed. When I would get exasperated and say, 'just walk!', she would gracefully spread her arms and do ballet walks in first position down the hallway. Her joy was the dance. She danced for no one but herself. It was not about the audience, or performance, or putting on airs. It was an expression of her innermost being. Where did that go? That little girl is in there still somewhere. I know it. What part of life hid that lightness of being in her? I fear I was part of it. I regret it...so much. I want to help her find it again but I don't know how. I would give anything for her to be able to dance her way through life again.

I Needed That...

I don't need a lot of positive reinforcement. I want to do good in the world. I take pleasure and reassurance from knowing that God has given me a calling and I am following through with it....

But there are times when one wonders about their effectiveness...if what they do is making a difference in another's life. So even in the midst of knowing I am doing right....I want to know I am doing well.

I got a lot of hugs this week. I didn't think I did anything especially spectacular or hug-worthy, but I had a lot of conversations, and spoke love into situations. And I was rewarded with many hugs and kind words. It was fuel to a waning heart. I am renewed....

Obligation

Obligation: something by which a person is bound or obliged to do certain things which arise out of a sense of duty or promise or contract or law...

I've been pondering this word for the past few days as someone used it with me and I was disturbed by the manner in which it was used. I wondered in what manner and to what I was held to by obligation...and I found there was little. I don't do much out of obligation except likely my job because they pay me a salary. Obligation to me holds behind it a sense of resentment I think, or drudgery.
Most of the things I do in my life, from menial to the truly important and impactful, have nothing to do with obligation and everything to do with love. While even love comes with a certain obligation, the feeling that it is obligation wanes with the power of the love. When I think of how God loves me, and the Creator of the Universe certainly holds no obligation to love me, then why should I hold to that when I act. I love, therefore I act...for love is no feeling, flighty and fanciful, but commitment in perseverance...reliable, bright, resolute and constant. Love bans obligation from all its actions.

Love, love

Sometimes we want so much for someone, we break our own heart before theirs does.

Many things...some new, some not.

I am not sure if going to bed is worth it. Sleep in any amount or form is beneficial to the body.
Getting up at 5am to feed hungry people is worthwhile...until 5pm, when it seems like perhaps it was not a good idea after all.
I wonder how it is that I plan so carefully and yet all things seem to culminate on the same weekend...sunrise breakfast for 25, brunch for eight including important pastor person, training, teaching, selling pizzas, drama rehearsal, playing with junior highs, Sunday dinner for 10 or so, lovely young people...all worthy in themselves as activities, but together...rather tiring. I always feel a good tired at the end of the weekend...
And work on Monday seems a good place to nap while staring at a computer screen.
I feel joy in the doing...at the expense of the effort it takes. An admirable if not exhausting trade off...