“Live deep instead of fast.”

Live deep instead of fast.
I wonder — does anyone today even have a choice? Everyday some trinket of technology enters the market as new and improved, smaller and faster.
I take photographs now without having to wait to see them — in the instant I click the shutter the image pops up on the little screen on the back of my camera. Only a couple of years ago I still sensed the thrill of anticipation as I worked to finish a roll of film, turn it in for processing and then rush to the dark room to make the prints — sometimes doing them over and over to get just the right contrast or colors — and finally being rewarded with a “perfect” print.
All aspects of life in America are like that. Even relationships. All of these progressive improvements in life are making us less patient. We want instant gratification, instant change, instant forgiveness, instant relief from pain, instant removal of consequences — not only are we less patient about these things, but we have grown a sense of entitlement to these things somehow. Instead of taking the Psalm 139 prayer and looking deep inside — “search me, O God, and know my heart, try me, and know my anxious thoughts. See if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” — we fool ourselves into believing that we deserve to be relieved of guilt, and lose sight of the value of waiting on God, searching deep in our hearts for the guilt, and going through the arduous process of repentance. “Oh! must I go through that valley again — I was just there! Can’t I take a short cut? a by-pass? and get what I want now? Can’t I put a band-aid on the wound and move on?”
But it’s the deep things that make us grow deeper still, expand our horizons, affect real change, bring the greatest rewards, lead us to real joy — all of which are gifts of grace, not something we have a right to at all.
So, live deep, not fast. Stop and look at the orchids. Stop and smell the roses. Stop and look deep in your heart and accept the loving discipline of the heavenly Father, no matter how long it takes — so that you may find the richness of a joyful life.

Idleness or rest?

“The idle man does not know what it is to enjoy rest.”
-Albert Einstein
I love this quote. It says so much with so few words.
It also speaks to me personally about the way I spend my time and use my mind. It caught my attention tonight primarily because of the word ‘rest’ — something of which I am sorely in need — I am exhausted right now precisely because neither my mind nor my body has had much rest lately. I burn the candle at both ends most days, getting up early because I don’t have a choice, and going to bed too late because my mind doesn’t shut down unless I force it. There are nights that I could probably go to bed earlier than I do because the work I’m doing is not necessary, or can wait for another time, but I’m enjoying it too much to stop. When my time is my own I’m never bored. There’s more to do and learn about in this life than there is lifetime in which to do it. But I keep trying. And when the time comes that I finally shut it down and crawl into the bed, nothing has ever felt sweeter than when I close my eyes and allow (because sometimes it isn’t allowed — like during faculty meetings at the end of a school day, or when I’m driving home) the waves of slumber to wash over me and carry me off to the land of dreams.
But there is also waking rest that comes when I break from the routine and do something I love to do but don’t get to do very often. And there is the rest that comes from taking on the light yoke of Christ and casting my heavy burdens on Him. Also, letting the peace of Christ rule in my heart.
There are more, but these are things that come immediately to mind as I read this quote from Einstein — a man who probably never had an idle moment in his life.
I don’t have any desire to be idle, but I do desire to learn more about rest.
I think I’ll go study it right now. . . . 

Exploring old and new places

I took the afternoon today and went exploring in downtown Norfolk — a rare treat. I wanted to see the current exhibit at the Chrysler Museum of Art called “Behind the Seen” — a showing of artwork that has been hidden for years in the museum’s vaults because they don’t have room to exhibit their whole collection. It was a feast for the eyes as I moved slowly from painting to painting, room to room. Dutch masters like Peter Paul Rubens; American painters including Charles Wilson Peale and his son Rembrandt Peale, Thomas Moran and Georgia O’Keefe; European artists such as Rodin, Renoir, Sargent, and others that I met for the first time. They had one room which they called the Chrysler Museum Salon in which they covered the walls in the style of the famous Paris Salon with artwork, including twelve pieces that actually made their debuts at dthe Salon during the 19th century — a large John Singer Sargent portrait being among them. I pushed through the exhibit with hesitant hurriedness only because I wanted to make it to one more place before sunset.
After leaving the musem a little later than I had planned, I rushed off down the road to the “north shore” of Norfolk to a beautiful old place on the Lafayette River, the Hermitage Foundation Museum. The Hermitage, as it is called by most people, is a place that I have long intended to visit, but one obstacle or another had kept me from it. The sun was just beginning to set as I drove onto the grounds. I parked and went to the door of the museum with the intention of going in to see their art exhibit, but was overwhelmed with the sights to see on the outside of the buildings. I hurried back to the car and put on my extra jacket (there was a cold wind blowing and the sun was losing its warmth), grabbed my camera and started walking all around the place, snapping pictures everywhere there was enough light. The blazing sunset was saturating everything it touched with rich reds and yellows, and the sky to the west looked even bluer. This was the art of God and I wasn’t about to miss it. I stayed out till the colors faded and the museum closed and I was half frozen. I shot about 90 photos and couldn’t wait to get home to look at them. Among them was this photo of a piece of driftwood that was alive with color from the sunset. I’m sure that in yesterday’s dreariness it would not have caught my attention in quite the same way — it’s normal grayness would have blended into the gray day. But today it was transformed into a work of art that rivaled anything on the inside of the museum.
It was old places with new things and new places with old things. It was a banquet for my soul. 

"Books are not dead things…"

…so said John Milton, “but do contain a potency of life…as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest extraction of that living intellect that bred them.”
The book in this photo is a gift from my husband to me, given at Christmas. He knows how much I love books, and especially beautiful, handcrafted journals such as this one. This was made by a man in his eighties who covered it with loving care. He used his own hand-marbled paper for the cover and painstakingly covered the binding with artists’ canvas, in hopes, he told my husband, that it would be sold to an artist who would decorate it with their own artwork.
I almost don’t want to make a mark on it because of the feared potential of ruining it’s beauty. Not only do I want to make it beautiful, but I desire to make marks which will make it my own book. Unlike the books in the opening quotation, this book does not contain the “progeny” of another, but instead it has the potential of being the “vial” that holds the “purest extraction of” my own soul. It is a gift which, unlike the gift of a book written by another, offers the opportunity to “publish” a part of myself, a slice of my life, a record of what is important and beautiful to me, a canvas upon which to paint the things I love.
My hope is that when the time comes that I make the last mark in it that it will look lovingly worn, well used, and contain that “potency of life.”
What a thoughtful gift.
Thank you, my love.

Colors of the new year

What will be the colors of the new year?
What subtle shades and tints of colors will we miss by taking things for granted? By assuming we’ve seen it all before, we so often miss the spectacular events and feastings for the senses that surround us each day. The sky holds more beauty and grandeur in a single moment than we can usually grasp.
But so often I hear my children say they are bored! When I hear that I just want to say, “go outside, and don’t come back in until you have seen and counted 10 shades of green!”
Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the scenes that play out around me each day. I want to stop and stay for awhile and soak it all in, but the necessities of life call me inside and away, and deep in my heart I quietly grieve the loss.
But I think that I’m beginning to learn about looking for all the subtle shades and tints of the colors of life — finally. Personalities, relationships, circumstances, events, routines — they all make up the tapestry of my life. Do they not each have a color — or many colors — that I can see as important and beautiful in their own way? And as they all are interwoven by the hand of my Creator, do they not help make me who I am meant to be?
So what will be the colors of the new year? and will I see them and appreciate them the way I should?
By God’s good grace.

…and a Happy, Creative New Year to all!

I love this photo of the giant origami lips. One of my independent study art students made these a couple of weeks before Christmas when locker decorating was going on in the halls, and she hung them on her friend’s locker door. I followed her up there and snapped this photo because I wanted to have record of the largest origami I’ve ever seen. :o)
I’ve really enjoyed my time off, and trip to NC to see my family, and now it’s time to start thinking about teaching again — it’s less than a week away. I’m looking forward to seeing what my students create this coming semester and I’m looking forward to learning alot right along beside them. Teaching as a job has its stresses and frustrations, but overall it’s more like a gift than any of those things. It has been said that if you really want to learn something well, you should teach it. This is SO true. But it’s about more than the material you’re teaching. It’s also about learning new ways to communicate to a diverse group of students, about listening to the students’ ‘critique’ of the way you teach and learning to examine yourself and find out if they are right; listening to their ideas and finding new ways of doing things. The crown on it all, of course, is learning about and exploring new areas of your subject where you’ve never had a chance to before. It’s an opportunity to grow in so many ways. As I said in my profile, “I can’t imagine a more mind-stimulating and heart-revealing occupation,” and I’m very grateful to God for this opportunity. 

A Blessed Christmas to Family and Friends. . . .

God did not
send Christ
to us;
God came
to us
in Christ.

~Don Skinner

Visual Journaling – worth the effort

My experience with visual journaling was born out of my combined interests of natural things and homeschooling. When my children were small and I was trying to find a way to teach them so that what we learned in science was both interesting and memorable, I read about nature journaling in a book by Charlotte Mason (I think it was her). I was intrigued and I went out and bought sketch journals for my children and myself, and we began taking hikes together in the state park that was just 5 minutes from our home. We would collect specimens or (I would) take photographs, we would carry field guides, and sometimes we would sit down and draw right there on the trail. We would take the specimens back home with us, look them up in encyclopedias or other books, then not only draw them, but also write about our hike, what the day was like, and about the specimen. It worked more or less depending on mood and attitude, but overall it was very successful.
What it did for me personally was to get me drawing again after a long hiatus (not much drawing happened with four babies being born in 7 years), and further sparked my interest in photography. Not only that, but also cultivated my interest in teaching. I eventually taught nature journaling as a cross-curriculum class at our homeschool co-op. I had a great time with the students.
As I further investigated visual journaling I came across several books on the subject. My hands-down favorite, though, is a book by Hannah Hinchman called A Trail Through Leaves , the subtitle is The Journal as a Path to Place. I found it on a bargain table at Waldenbook or some bookstore one time, and didn’t realize what a treasure I had found until I started reading it. I devoured it in no time and went on to read others she has written. I found them at Amazon after doing a search on her name. Check these out if you’re intrigued by now. While I don’t completely agree with Ms. Hinchman philosophically, I do respect her discipline of consistent journaling, and relish the instruction and ideas she so generously gives.

Adding to the Beauty

I just got Sara Groves new cd, “Add to the Beauty,” and have been enjoying it very much. She says she wanted to do her next cd (this one) about the Kingdom of God. “Now more than ever the only thing that could rival my despair at the pain in the world is my hope in a very real kingdom of God, and very real people who by the grace of God are adding to the beauty with their beautiful art, creative lives, and redemptive work.”
I know a lot of those people and they touch my life in ways they may never know. The artists, the authors, the musicians, the teachers, the preachers, the missionaries, etc…. all doing creative, redemptive work, doing their part to enlarge and beautify the Kingdom of God. They are my heroes and I applaud them here today.
The work they do is done from hearts that are passionate about God, His Kingdom, and His people with not much thought for themselves. I long to have a heart like this. A heart that doesn’t seek to do great things, but instead seeks to love like God loves, to be His voice, feet and hands on the earth.
This is what I want for Christmas.

 

God intrudes

Another favorite quote for Christmas meditation:
Despite our efforts to keep him out, God intrudes. The life of Jesus is bracketed by two impossibilities: a virgin’s womb and an empty tomb. Jesus entered our world through a door marked “No Entrance” and left through a door marked “No Exit.”
–Peter Larson, Prism (Jan/Feb 2001)
Also, for some out-of-the-ordinary, heart-moving meditations on Christmas, go to
http://www.desiringgod.org and click on the links in the topic index which will take you to John Piper’s Advent Poems. He writes one every year as a gift to his congregation, and they are very thought provoking. Not to be missed!