all creatures of our God and King...

Norah, Marten and I went to go see Disney's Earth film this evening. Our world is incredible. The vast array of species with countless individuals within each family is astounding. And the scenery... positively breathtaking. The panoramic views of moutains, fields, waterfalls, the oceans ... the film is worth seeing just for the waterfalls.





Though He was never mentioned, God's almighty majesty and hand in creation can clearly be seen in this film. In the sleek muscles of the cheetah, in the folds and wrinkles of the elephant, in the windswept dunes of Africa, even chase to death. This world is beautiful, and yet we see so little of it, have so little appreciation for it.

late night drives

John Cheever's The Swimmer was mentioned on the radio this evening. This has no impact on those who did not take English 103 with Dr. Bowen this past semester, so I will move on.

Actually, that was pretty much all I wanted to say. That I like hearing references to things I learned about.

And that I love my friends. And that coming to Hamilton lightens my pockets. And 10:00 p.m. is a wonderful time to sing in the car with the occasional dance move thrown in.

hanging out the [clean] laundry

sunny days = sunscreen (actually used it today) + photo ops + kids playing in the dirt (which, incidentally, = more laundry) + swings + books + front porch + hanging laundry on the clothesline (namely, my sheets)

I'd also like to note the beauty of blue and white. Side note: That is why I'm hoping to repaint my room from blue and white to grey with white trim and blue accent pieces. Blue rooms are becomming cliché so I'm going for something new. Side note aside, I still really like blue and white.

Maybe I'll actually go to bed on time tonight to revel in the freshness of spring.

"boys pursing summer butterflies"

[Coriolanus, Act IV, scene vi] taken totally out of context

And thus summer begins on the front porch with a stack of a combination of great works and not-so-intelligent-fiction.


I don't think I'm ready for it yet.

the waltz of the leaves

The leaves are playing a game of freeze tag across the lawn, flitting with a whisper over the grass and skittering across the pavement. When the wind dies down, they pause, some trembling with anticipation in the bright rays of the sun. These acrobats are like no others, flirting with wind and light.

the slow progress of a pilgrim

I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face
from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back. I saw
him open the book, and read therein; and as he read, he wept and trembled; and
he cried out, “What shall I do?”

Yet at the foot of the cross we can find relief from all our burdens, whether they be of moderate weight or heavy burdens that we have been carrying with us for years as shackles. These shackles are constantly tripping us, hindering the race towards the goal.

How often do we allow ourselves to be carried away by the reading of a story, that we sit, weeping and trembling? In Guy Vanderhaege's story "How the Story Ends" a young boy sits, immersed by the story of Abraham leading his only son to be a sacrifice. The old man who reads him the story is also engrossed, so much so that he does not notice the battle waging in the young boy. He himself sees where the story is headed, the image of the Angel and redemption before his eyes. The boy only sees death, death and blood, a father trying to appease a god with the life of his son. So terrified, he rips the page out of the book, wanting to know the end but not waiting to hear.

Either we are too impatient to hear the resolution that we skip to the end or we sit passively, allowing the words to surround and wash over us but never affecting and filling us.

Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses,
affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons,
subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by
the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us do we not bleed?
If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die?

- Merchant of Venice, Act III, scene i

Are we not stirred by the words of Shylock? Do we then cry with Abraham as he walks forward in faith to give up his son? Do we feel the anger of Jonah? Do we rejoice with Naomi? Do we cry as we look to the cross although we know that Christ will be victorious? Are we filled with awe as we read John's description of the new Jerusalem, filled with the light of the Lamp?

We are pilgrims on a journey. Let us weep with those who weep, laugh with those who laugh, sharing in both their joys and sorrows until every tear shall be wiped from our eyes.

a complete venting of all frustrations

grr

gettin' there

I miss being outside.

Does anyone have any good walking trails recommendations?

wordpress blues

Well, I like the layout, but it causes people to change all their links and such so I'm back.

Post from last week:

02.04.09 why love tomorrow when the sun comes out today?

It’s amazing how a day that begins so dark, dreary and drizzling [I love alliteration] can turn out to be so beautiful. Too bad that paper season confines us indoors where the light is either artificial or only streaming in through the window - which is not nearly the same as being outside in the brisk breeze.

indecision

I moved to wordpress, wasn't a huge fan, but now I'm starting to figure it out. I still don't know how to delete all the extra boxes along the side, but that will come.

So I'm staying there for a while yet.