“Behold, I am making all things new.” (Revelation 21:5)

Even as the leaves make their journey to the ground, I know God is keeping His promise to make all things new. And in the process, I contemplate the seasons and the cycles with poetic musings. An offering to your soul from mine.

musing 001

the redbud tree
denuded of leaves,
skeletal seed pods
hang on.

clattering in the wind,
sap receding will
cause them to drop
drab to the ground.

a blue cardinal
lights up a branch
of its brown
presence.

musing 002

The October red
garbed in green
stands firm–
stands against
autumn’s march
supposedly,
until a lone
orangish red,
reddish orange
one gives away
her ruse.

She recedes
on the inside,
as the season
closes–
going to sleep
for the winter.

Dying in cycles,
waiting, living
but losing
the round;
inevitable
leaves fall to
the ground.

Be merciful to me, Lord . . .(Psalm 31:9a NIV)

It’s Random Journal Day!

 . . . and just when I thought I didn’t have anything to say or write, I found my bearings again in my journal.

Earlier this week, I was sleep deprived and stressed. I thought I couldn’t make it. I thought my life was going to be swallowed up with work that is good, but not exactly my dream job.

I found myself needing time to sort out what had happened. To give myself space to accept. And the best place I find to sort out life is in my journal. My refuge where I can say anything and write down things to get them back into perspective. I took my journal, while I got my oil changed. During those minutes, I wrote out the schedule for the next three months and somehow that bigger view eased my sense of being overwhelmed. One day at time. One thing at a time.

I wasn’t going to post here, while I transitioned into my job as a substitute teacher. Because I come home and need a nap. Because I wasn’t sleeping, because I didn’t know how the system worked, and I’m still learning. (My nephew hasn’t been sleeping well either. He says he has amnesia.) Lack of sleep. Insomnia. Amnesia. Makes sense to me, in my sleep deprived state, I forgot that God is merciful.

He doesn’t ever give us more than we can handle.

My job is to show up and see what is needed each day and do that. It’s not to be a super substitute, but a present one, who follows the teacher’s plan and keeps some semblance of calm in the classroom.

Today was my first assignment at the high school. I walked over to the school in the gray of the morning. I found where to sign-in, get the room assignment and pick up my computer for the day. I read the plans and waited for students to arrive.

I was surprised by the pockets of quiet that marked this day. The students were taking vocab quizzes and working on reading or writing assignments. In the quiet of the morning, I penned these words:

quiet morning pencils scratch answers to vocab quiz

One of the vocabulary words was merciful. While the students worked on their assignments, I decided to write their vocabulary words on a collage, which I had made the night before. In that brief moment, I realized God was being merciful, giving me meaningful work, and space where I can still find snippets of inspiration.

This week began with me being distressed, but in the end all I see is the mercies of the Lord and His goodness in the land of the living.

Inspiration and courage to face the next thing can come in the smallest ways. A text. A blank journal page. A vocabulary list. Here are two tidbits from my week that kept me going and believing.

A random text from one of our sons: “Let’s ponder the phrase, “constructive rest” (And from this inclusive, imperative invitation I have been passing along the challenge to ponder the phrase with friends and even strangers. I was monitoring a woodworking class during lunch today, because subs are multi-taskers. As the students sat waiting for their real teacher to return, I blurted out “Ponder the phrase ‘constructive rest,'” and one student paused and asked me what I said. I said it again. And he just went back to his work. But I do think I had him pondering.)

So ponder on my friends. Save your thoughts on the topic for later, because apparently as a follow-up text from my son says “Live with it, and we will discuss with the rest of the class later.”

And if you would like to see my newest journal live on You Tube click here.

Happy journaling! Happy weekend!

I make known the end from the beginning,
    from ancient times, what is still to come.
I say, ‘My purpose will stand,
    and I will do all that I please.’ (Isaiah 46:10 NIV)

I am sitting here wondering how to tell you that I can’t think of what to write next in the story about the woman who never had any babies in St. Louis. I hate to call it writer’s block, because it’s more like this writer has lost interest in the story. Life has taken me on a detour. And writing stories may have to wait for a bit.

I am on an unexpected journey, where I have the pleasure of explaining the difference between being quiet and being silent. I cover all kinds of topics in my new job. But mostly I monitor people who need to sharpen their pencils, take bathroom breaks, and  need an escort to various places around the building. I am working as a substitute teacher.

As my husband describes it, we are experiencing major adjustments. I enjoy the work, when I’m at a school. I like the variety of students I meet, and the challenge of being flexible each day.

But I do come home drained, with most of my creative energy having been expended in the classroom. Finding creative ways to line-up children or keep the students attention is very necessary, but also very exhausting. All this said, I need to lessen my load.

I need to take an extended break from posting here.

Thanks for reading and encouraging me with your comments over the years. I will be back once I get a better handle on this season of life.