make space

When is there space in life to seek God, to be still, to pray?

Thoughts will keep coming by the hundreds until kingdom come. The schedule will always seem full. Pressures are unlikely to cease. The hours in the day will keep slipping by, small and fleet.  

Make space. 

Something new demands attention every moment. Always another fire to put out. An endless testing ground for the skills acquired in our childhood playing the whack-a-mole game. And there is always something else—waiting in the wings. 

Make space. 

We mean to but we don't. We hope to but we won't. 

The tide rises fresh on us each day. We give up hope that it can be held at bay.

If things are always going to be this way, then we need to consider our choices:

to dishonestly assure ourselves that a more ideal time is forthcoming, or to make space today to do as we always intend—

Because if not now, then when?

short sweet getaway

This past week I had the joy of going to visit my sister in Arizona for several days. The 105+ºF  was wonderful. I was finally sufficiently warm! An oasis of heat in my somewhat cool Vancouver summer. By day my sister and I shopped, went out to lunch, and talked—I love my sister. It was so relaxing to just be with her and to roam around together. Each afternoon we would pick up my nieces from day camp and transition into family time for the evening. Drawing, dancing, doing face masques ala home spa...it was fun to spend time with my rapidly growing up nieces, two of whom are passing me up in height! Crazy. All around it was a lovely few days away—a short sweet blessing, for which I am very grateful. 

commonplaces, common graces

The flowerbed in front of my living room window is planted with roses. And when they bloom, they bloom. The flowers are full bodied, ripe with fragrance, their ruffled petals embracing a whole palette of hues—from warm gold to deep fuchsia pink, like a sunset...in a single blossom. Isn't it a wonder that such things as roses— rich, rare, lavish—are held as such commonplaces among us? That they are seen by the eyes of just and the unjust? Common graces indeed, beauties so rich as these.