I am words.

I wrote this in my journal several weeks ago, and although the rough period mentioned was--for the most part--limited to that week, the rest still rings true. Actually, this summer can be most accurately described as a roller coaster. I moved across the country, one of my favorite people in the world (my grandmother) left this world, and this country seems to be falling apart at the seams. But there is beauty everywhere, and I am full of words.

*******

There are words jumbling around inside of me, struggling to pour forth from my fingertips, but I don't know what they are or how to make any sense of them, just that I am full of passion. I drifted awake this morning hating this current chapter in my life and wanting to sleep through the day--as I have felt all week--and suddenly, I was filled with this inexplicable, undeniable longing to do, change, grow, live. I want to make this work. I am here, and it must be for a reason, so I will make the most of it. I am resilient. I am God's instrument, and God can do anything. Anywhere.

So who am I to ignore the world as it cries out in pain, and yet still blooms in beauty? Who am I to ignore God's call? No. I will live. I will pray. I will write. I will let this passion consume me, and then emanate outward in whichever direction it will go, but I have a feeling it will hit paper--and thrive. I will thrive. The world is alive, and so should I be.

I write for myself, yes, because it helps me tangibly process my thoughts, but more importantly, I write because the words need to be on paper. The words flow, tangled, through my mind and then suddenly become frantic--I become frantic, with the need to let them out, to be their scribe, to be their written voice. I don't know if the words come from my own mind, or from God--sometimes I wonder if there's truly a difference--I just know with an unquestionable certainty that I need to write. That the words need to exist outside my head.

Am I still writing? friends and family ask. Yes. I am still writing. I will always write. Mostly because I can't stop. I am words. God formed me with a word, and He fills me with words, and I cannot deny what I am, what God has given me. So I will live, and I will write.

you can't be a Christian

Last fall, my husband and I went to Texas for a wedding, and while we were waiting for a train to take us back to the airport, an older gentleman engaged us in light conversation--where were we from, etc. When I explained that we were volunteering on a sustainable living homestead, he said cheerfully, "Oh, we have very different political views, then: I voted for Trump."

It took me a moment to catch up with him, not sure at first how he'd jumped from gardens to politics. However, I quickly realized that because I'd been talking about sustainability, he assumed that I also support abortion and gay marriage (two issues he brought up later in the discussion). Suffice it to say that he was not entirely correct, even if I do lean very far to the left. After deciphering his train of thought, I smiled and nodded, not wanting to get into a pointless debate with him. But he wasn't finished yet.

"I don't see how Democrats can be Christian," he said matter-of-factly. If he'd said, "I don't see how Christians can be Democrat," I might have let the comment slide. But he didn't. What I heard was not a jab at my political views, but a discrediting of my faith. He might as well have looked me in the eye and told me, "You can't be a Christian."

I pushed back, of course, and we quickly discovered that we interpret the Bible, especially Jesus' teachings, very differently. Finally, he decided to discredit me because of my age and lack of experience.

"I've read the Bible at least 35 times--I read through it every year," he said. So, obviously, I am wrong. I have to admit he had me for a second, as I do believe in respecting one's elders, and that they have much to teach us. I think I responded with something like, "That's a very good practice to have," and he looked very pleased with himself, like maybe he was gaining headway with this ignorant child.

But I was still angry. What about my parents, grandparents, teachers, professors, mentors, pastors? Were they wrong, too? Sure, he's lived longer than I have, but so have all of the people who have taught me in my short experience.

Our train arrived soon after, and we parted with a friendly "it was nice to meet you." To him, what had just transpired was a lively discussion--perhaps he'd intended to start it with his inflammatory comments--and I did not think any less of him as a person. Whatever his intentions, I don't believe he meant any harm. But he had awakened a fire within me.

Because I am young, are my opinions worth less? Because I lean a certain way politically, am I any less a Christian? No. The man at the train platform and I are both Christians, and our opinions carry the same weight. We both believe the other is wrong, and I don't think anything but God could change our minds, but that doesn't make either of us better than the other.

There's a hymn that says, "They will know we are Christians by our love." I don't care what your political slant is, or whether you interpret the New Testament the same way I do; when you meet someone, don't belittle them because they are different. Show them love. After all, that's what ties us all together, isn't it? "For God so loved the world . . ." and so should we.

roots

When I introduced Poetry Thursday and reinstated Wordless Wednesday a few months ago, I realized that many of my readers didn't understand why my book blog is titled Poetree. The simple answer is this: Poetree was never intended to be a book blog. But that is what it has evolved into, and I have grown weary of it--weary of writing nonsense about things that don't matter, of showing off books that I've acquired and pictures that I've taken all of the sake of receiving praise and gaining ever more followers. This hobby has become a chore, another item to check off my too long to-do list, and so I took some time to re-evaluate.

My brainstorming session didn't last long, but I jotted down several lists with headings like purpose, content, post ideas, timing. . . . And then I wrote "Poetree" in the center of the page, and these five words emerged below it:

poetry

trees

musings

inspiration

passion

That is the heart of Poetree. I'm going back to the roots of this dear blog, though you won't be seeing the poem-a-day that began it (check out some of my earliest posts if you want to see what I mean). Going forward, I will use this space--every Wednesday--to share poetry, musings, inspiration, and, of course the occasional bookish post. Soul scribbles from the journey of life.

inspired

Sometimes I read a blog post and just think, wow. And I wish everyone in the world would read it, and feel that warm prick inside to wake them up as it did me. Sometimes it's a poem, others a rambling essay, or maybe photos or a simple list. In any case, here are a few of those posts that have made me feel inspired.

the practice of giving thanks | trembling but roaring {a poem}

Why Older People Will Save the World (& Teenagers Won't) | Penslayer {an essay}

if places were people no. 3 | She Laughs {a poem}

The Ultimate Diverse Reading List | Read Diverse Books {a list}

Magic by Any Other Name | Jenelle Schmidt {an essay}

Throw Pillows | The Goodness Revolt {photos & an essay}

You Don't Have To Travel To Find Yourself | A Portrait of Youth {an essay}

Dear Girls | Princess Faith {an essay}

fire | Down by the Willows {a poem}

Where have you found inspiration lately?

*******

From the Editor's Desk {Tip of the Week}

allude/elude/illude--which one?

Ah, homonyms! Whatever shall we do with them? Here are the definitions for allude, elude, and illude, so you won't confuse them again!

Allude: to refer to something indirectly
Elude: to avoid capture
Illude: to deceive

She alluded to her elusion of the man who had illuded her.

*******

finding Purpose

A few months ago, I hinted at the possibility of a big move. Well, looking at you from the other side of this great event, I can tell you it's not at all what I expected. Instead of heading south, we came north. I could explain the why and how -- which is a fun story -- but for brevity's sake, I'll jump right into the where and what.

I live at the very end of a dirt road in the mountains, where my husband and I are full-time volunteers on a non-profit homestead run by the family living in the house to which our current apartment is attached. I am tired almost from the moment I wake up in the morning, and if my muscles don't ache when I crawl out of bed, they almost certainly do by the time I crawl back in. And yet, I don't want to be anywhere else right now. For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.

When I finish working for the day, even though I'm exhausted and the work is never truly done (it is a farm, after all), I don't feel compelled to throw a frozen dinner in the the oven and drop on the couch, or simply crawl under a rock and disappear. These are things that I felt in the past several years, while working office jobs, but I don't feel them now. Now, I am excited about the kitchen again. I walk into the apartment after digging and hoeing and mulching and sweating, ready to experiment with strawberry bread or figure out what to make for supper using asparagus and wilting arugula. Or, a constant battle, how many different ways I can use eggs (we have 37 laying hens in our backyard...).

I have been saying "I want to farm" for years, and sometimes the longing grew so strong that it became an ache within my soul. But recently I have been questioning that. Is farming a feasible occupation for me? Do I even want to do it anymore? Then I came here, and I know that this is my purpose. Every aching muscle tells me that I am feeding hungry people, and that is a beautiful thing.

I look out my window and see chickens, squirrels, and songbirds; I turn and smile at the solar panel providing our home with renewable energy. And at night, sometimes, I can open the back door and listen to barred owls calling to each other like howler monkeys.

My weeks are filled with planning, digging, and growing gardens. And my Sunday worship consists of volunteering at the local food distribution, where my low-income neighbors "shop" through a smorgasbord of items that the grocery store rejected and, thankfully, donated to our humble cause. I am not a people person -- not by far -- but as these souls wander through the fellowship hall, cheerfully loading up their grocery bags, we smile and greet each other and discuss the virtues of different kinds of bread. We laugh over spilled grape tomatoes rolling across the floor, and stoop to pick them up. The kind woman who dropped them takes the package anyway -- they'll be good as new after a thorough rinsing, she points out.

I'm not at all where I thought I'd be right now, but I'm exactly where I belong. God has a purpose for each of us. This is mine.

satisfied

Back in January, I started writing (very sporadically) a gratitude list. And when I told Kate, she asked me to write a guest post about it on her amazing blog, The Goodness Revolt. It went live today, so, fellow souls, I encourage you to pay her a visit and read about apathy, and journaling, and being satisfied.

(and perhaps peruse a few of her own scribblings? you won't be disappointed, I promise. you might even be tempted to follow her. do it.)

a year of unkowns {2016}

2016 brings with it uncertainty. There is "I hope" and "maybe" and "what if," all wrapped up in a potential life change of somewhat enormous proportions. Enormous as in moving to another country. It all hinges on an application my husband and I sent in well ahead of the deadline, and so now we wait. And wait. And wait. We don't know specifics -- it's all pretty vague, but what happens if we are not accepted is even more so. I'm terribly impatient, and I like to have things planned out. But right now I'm reveling in these unknowns, trying to take advantage of this upcoming break from the monotony of routine. Life is happening. And whatever 2016 brings, I'm ready.

All that just to say: the below goals are dependent upon where I end up and what I end up doing and whether it leaves time for what I have planned, because, frankly (unfortunately?), reading and writing are not exactly top priority for me. They are hobbies. Seeing as how my specific reading goals didn't pan out so well last year, I'm sticking to good ol' fashioned numbers this time around.

reading:

35 books

I considered upping the number again, especially since I went well above 35 last year, but given the uncertainties, I figured a modest goal made the most sense. Keep track of my progress on Goodreads, if you like! Depending on how life goes, I might up the number in a few months...

writing:

100,000 words
In searching for a motivator along the same vein as NaNoWriMo, I happily discovered WriYe. It's a spinoff of NaNo, but it lasts the whole year, and you pick your own word count goal. If you decide to sign up, please do friend me! My username is SerenaPoetree.

miscellaneous:

spend more time outside
learn to knit socks
finish the One Year Bible
practice yoga regularly
start a healthy (early) morning routine
others... ?
I've been toying with the idea of monthly goals -- choosing something(s) to focus on for one month, rather than stretching a pile of resolutions over a full year and then watching them fizzle out somewhere around spring or summer. If this idea continues to nag me, I might have something more to say come February.

*******

What does 2016 look like where you stand? Have you set any goals -- reading, writing or otherwise?

Christmas inspiration {a list}

Last week, I began collecting posts that inspired me on some level, realizing that though I haven't written a Christmassy poem this year, I can still share inspiration. And what better way to do it than to spread the cheer to other bloggers? Check out these wonderful holiday posts, with a few of my poems from years past tacked on the end because I just couldn't help myself.

a poem (this one's a must-read)
The Cwtch: Mountains and Mary's

Christmas recipes (gingerbread people, apple taffy salad, and more!)
Curious Wren: Holiday Recipes

a festive to-do list (if you're just not feeling the Christmas spirit yet)
The Quiet People: A Festive To-Do List

creative gift-wrapping ideas (eco-friendly!)

Hello Natural: 6 Eco-Friendly Gift Wrap Ideas

Jolabokaflod ("Christmas Book Flood" - a wonderful Icelandic Christmas eve tradition)
NPR: Literary Iceland Revels in its Annual Christmas Book Flood

from the archives (more poems)
Poetree: Blessed Elizabeth
Poetree: Gifts

*******

What has inspired you this holiday season?

awaken

wake up, oh heart,
awaken
take note!
the world is not dead
no,
the golden evening light
though fading
captivates you, enlivens you
reminding of the beauty held
in every atom waiting
to be noticed
see!
breathe!
the world is alive
and so should you be

surviving, and living

Over a month ago, I decided to attempt NaNoWriMo, even though I've never written a novel in my life. Fiction is not my forte, I'd decided. But guess what, folks? 25,020 words later, I'm well on my way to writing a fantasy novel.

Not only did I reach my personal goal of 25,000 words, but I wrote every single day for 30 days. And at the end of it all, I have something I'm proud of, something I feel is worth continuing. So even though NaNoWriMo is officially over for 2015, and many of my fellow writers are moving on to the dreaded editing stage (is it weird that I look forward to that?), I'm going to keep on writing.

My goal moving forward is a little less ambitious, though: to write at least once per week. Although I don't regret the tiniest bit having done NaNoWriMo, I did often feel like I was missing out on other things throughout the month. I did next to no knitting, and there's still an unfinished puzzle collecting dust on the kitchen table. And my husband might be feeling a tad neglected... (He's been super supportive through this whole ridiculous adventure, making supper and giving me uninterrupted time to write every evening and even encouraging me to go sit down at my computer.)

I want to finish this book, but I also want to leave time for life to happen. I want to meditate on devotions every morning (especially during this season of Advent), read, do yoga, travel, continue teaching myself to knit, bake, visit with family, hang out with friends, finally get that darn puzzle finished... There are so many things to fill the hours of our days, and I can't settle for just one!

I want to live.

happiness

some songs that make you happy

Oceans (Where Feet May Fail) | a beautiful, powerful song, even more so when sung as waves lap your toes

Come Thou Fount | violin and cello as I walked down the tree-shaded aisle in a white dress

Honey Bear | listen to this song without smiling. or dancing. I dare you.

Concerning Hobbits | rolling green hills, a peaceful life, I am a hobbit

some books that make you happy

Misty of Chincoteague | childhood, Mom reading to me, wild ponies

The Lord of the Rings | hobbits, elves, wizards, dwarves, ents, friendship, adventure
The Cloister Walk | unexpectedly beautiful, meditative, journal-like, poetic

DragonSpell | a serendipitous discovery of Christian fantasy beyond C.S. Lewis
Heartland (series) | horses, comfort read, my teen years
The Jesus I Never Knew | deep thinking, giving context to the Bible, new ideas
Summer Hawk | hawks, unexpected friendship, the book I almost wrote

some movies that make you happy

The Lord of the Rings | ditto the books
Spirit | mustangs, the West, music, animation
Amazing Grace | inspiring

Up | snipe, Dug, dreams, love, adventure
Les Miserables | painful, sorrowful, beautiful
Harry Potter | multi-week movie marathons

some foods that make you happy

cake | birthdays, icing, chocolate

brownie sundae | brownies, hot fudge, ice cream... what's not to love?

sweet potato casserole | sweet potatoes, gooey marshmallows, family

cherry pie | Nan-nan, sour cherries from the backyard, summer

some words that make you happy

journey | silence | peace | I love you | perhaps | serenity | beautiful | seed | root | branch | leaf | wonder | wander

some scents that make you happy

horses | long rides, pb&j picnics in the woods, barrel racing, my best friend has a mane

lavender | long hours picking herbs among the honeybees, my wedding bouquets

forest | rough bark, crunchy leaves, winding trail, soul rediscovered beneath a tangle of branches
food | baking cookies, grilling burgers, hot cider, warm bread...

some random things that make you happy

family | animals | trees | fuzzy blankets | sharpened pencils | sunrises | green | travel | walking barefoot | stories | hope

Months ago, Opal tagged me in The Tag of Happiness, and while I don't participate in many memes, I thought this one was too beautiful to pass up. And because I am hopelessly curious, I followed the tag back to the original creator at The Curiosity Collections (a fitting name, considering what landed me there...). I love the flexibility of this tag -- it doesn't specify how many items must be listed under each heading, or how many people must be tagged, and it even allows for more categories to be added. There are no "rules," just "guidelines," allowing each blogger to add their own flair.

guidelines:
Take the banner and put it in your post
List as many things as you want in each category
Come up with more categories if you wish
Tag as many people as you want

I tag:
Shantelle | A Writer's Heart
Kristin | Wool and Wheel
Britt | Encouragement for Everyday Struggles
Annie | Curious Wren
...and anyone else who wants to join in!

when your to-do list is longer than 24 hours, and fun is no longer fun

I recently read a post by fellow blogger Rebekka about trying to do everything at once and failing. As I started writing a comment, I realized I had a lot to say on the topic, and that we probably weren't the only ones who have experienced this exhausting problem.

How do we get everything done -- whether "everything" is school, work, blogging, NaNoWriMo, reading, etc. etc. etc. -- and still have time to just plain relax? Have enjoyable pastimes moved from relaxing activities to looming to-do items? What do you do when your to-do list is longer than 24-hours, and fun is no longer fun?

I'm definitely no expert, but I have spent an exceptional amount of time pondering this over the past months, and I'd like to share a few tips that have helped me. Several of these pertain directly to blogging, but they can certainly be applied to other things in life.

1. Take a break...

...or just cut back. I recently took a month-long break from blogging, and by the end of it I was refreshed and excited to get back into it again. I had even stockpiled a few draft posts that I had felt inspired to write during the break, so I had some back-up for when I didn't have time or just plain didn't want to write a post.

If taking a break isn't possible or doesn't sound appealing, consider cutting back (at least temporarily). You don't have to post every day -- in fact, you could get away with once a week. Pick a day (I chose Tuesdays), and schedule your posts ahead of time. Again, if you have time and/or feel inspired to write an extra post, write away, and save those posts for when you lack time and inspiration.

2. Prioritize

What is most important on your to-do list? For some people, dividing to-do items into big rocks, gravel, and sand helps to put a visual on this. Top-priority things are big rocks; these go in the jar first. Gravel represents mid-priority items, and they fill in the gaps. Sand follows, seeping into whatever cracks are left over. Or maybe you just want to write a list and star the things that MUST get done TODAY. Whatever method works for you, make sure you know what your priorities are.

3. Use what you have

Use photos you already have (we'll never know!). You shouldn't feel obligated to take and edit new photos for every blog post when you probably have an enormous pile of them in your computer already. And no one will think less of you for using images from Goodreads for your book reviews.

Remember those posts you set aside for a rainy day? Use them. When blogging feels like a chore, publish one of those stockpiled drafts. Write when you feel like it. (I'm talking to all of my fellow hobby-bloggers out there -- if blogging is your job, then I guess it is sort of a chore...)

4. Set a bed time

Yes, we're all adults here (and teens), but I find routine immensely helpful, especially when it comes to sleep. If you don't set a specific time for shutting down, you could potentially go on all night, which leads to waking up late and/or feeling groggy and icky and generally all-around terrible in the morning. And that is not good for productivity. Also, by setting a bed time, you allow for also setting a reading time. I like to read for about an hour before turning in for the night -- not only does this ensure that I get to read, but it helps me wind down at the end of the day.

5. Set a wake-up time

...and do something you enjoy first thing in the morning. I struggle with this one, but I've found that waking up at the same time every morning is as helpful as going to bed at (about) the same time every night. Set your alarm, and challenge yourself to not hit snooze. If you have work or school to get to, leave plenty of time to not only get ready, but also to do something you enjoy. Go for a run, do yoga, read a devotional. This starts your day on a positive note, and gives you something to look forward to in the morning. And eat breakfast. Always, always, always eat breakfast.

6. Take breaks!

If you're feeling overwhelmed, you're probably not getting much done because you're too busy panicking over all the things you're not getting done. Go for a five-minute walk (or longer, if you have time!), take a bath, call a friend, grab a snack... even running an errand can be refreshing if you've been holed up in the house all day. Just make sure to set a time limit so your break doesn't turn into procrastination.

Try to set aside a day, or at least a half day, where you don't worry about being productive. For me, this is Sunday. I go to church in the morning, and then I have the rest of the day to read, bake, play board games, go for a long walk -- whatever I feel like doing! I'm not super strict about this; Sunday has also become laundry day, and I sometimes finish up a few chores that didn't get done on Saturday, but for the most part, Sunday is a day of relaxing.

*******

Do you have an impossible to-do list? What tips do you have for getting things done and still having some time to do what you love?

the first page {poems}

I finally started writing in a new journal, which my dad gave to me for Christmas some years ago. It is beautiful, and I was so very excited to begin filling its pages after finishing my last journal. I can't wait to see what it will hold. How many moments, tears, smiles, years? What anxieties will pour forth, what thin places will be recorded?

For now, here are the first two poems:

{untitled}

Purple juice bleeds down

eager fingers, settling

in the creases of our palms--

leaves scratch, thorns grab,

chastising us for breaking

innocent spiders' webs

in greedy hunger for

blackberry cobbler.

{untitled}

It's August yet,

though crows call

to a breeze that draws

a thin time

ever nearer.

to change ourselves

I often find myself praying for patience. Especially with people. And while I can prepare well for guests, once they arrive I prove to be a terrible host (this tends to happen when one is an introvert with borderline social anxiety). I clean the house, bake coffee cake, set clean towels on the foot of neatly made beds, and then forget to show the guests where the bathroom is or to offer them something to drink once all their things have been tucked into their room.

Let me tell you a story.

This week a huge, international conference is taking place nearby, and the non-profit organization my husband and I work for is heavily involved. In fact, I have been putting together the logistics for much our organization's involvement over the past several months.

Today I had the... privilege of handing out t-shirts to staff involved in this conference, which meant half a dozen people would crowd around the table at a time, with more pressing in from behind, and ask me to simultaneously look up all their names on my list and pass out t-shirts like a three-headed octopus. And a good number of them had unrelated questions to pepper me with. Because this occurred before and after a lunch meeting, I also had no lunch break (although I did eat. standing up.). I was exhausted.

After packing up all the remaining shirts and returning to my desk, I sluggishly slogged through a few pressing items before tai chi class and a long-awaited nap. I didn't want to see another human being for the rest of the day. But almost as soon as I crawled out of bed--conscious, if not alert--I received a phone call that sent me back to the office (which, thankfully, is just across the street).

I walked into the front lobby to see two frazzled-looking men and a pile of luggage. "Do you work here?" the older man asked. "Yes," I said. "Is that a dangerous thing to admit to?" He laughed and explained that he had just returned from the train station where he had been to pick someone up, and another young man had recognized our organization on the sign he was holding and asked for a ride. This young man is from Colombia and speaks little if any English, and while I know some Spanish, I called my near-fluent husband to come assist him.

Long story short (or a little shorter), Paul gave the man a room in our guest facilities and, since the dining hall was closed tonight, invited him home for supper. I tried to make myself busy in order to avoid conversation, but eventually the pizza came and we all sat around the table together. I even remembered to set out drinks and napkins.

Our guest showed us a picture of his fiance, talked about his job at a university, and asked how long I'd been working on the extremely complicado 2,000-piece puzzle that was taking up half the kitchen table. I was surprised to find that I not only understood most of what he said (did I mention my Spanish is, um, not very good?), but I enjoyed his unexpected company. And I almost laughed to think that less than an hour before I'd wanted to stuff my nose in a book and remain blissfully oblivious to the outside world.

God may not change us, but He will give us opportunities to change ourselves. Especially when we least expect them.

the last page

A friend gave this journal to me for Christmas some time in high school (way back when flip phones were cool), and I remember thinking what an odd gift it was. But after graduation, when the small yellow writing tablet I'd been scribbling poetry in ran out of pages, I dug this spiral-bound stack of paper out of a drawer and kept writing.

For nearly seven years I wrote in this book, sometimes laying it aside for months, and sometimes flipping to a new page every day. It contains more memories and emotion than any diary I ever kept, and in far fewer words. You've seen some of its contents spilled on this blog -- all of the poems I've posted originated from this journal's pages.

I knew that I couldn't end it with just any poem, and during a solitary walk this evening I found, if not perfect, sufficient words to fill the last page. It's the end, and yet, somehow, it feels like the beginning.

here's to hope--
to having a voice,
to being a voice
the blank page of invitation
a line, a letter, a word,
a soul on paper

St. Patrick's Day -- more than shamrocks and leprechauns

image credit

As much fun as it is to go wild with green food coloring and wear as many shades of the color as possible, St. Patrick's Day has a much deeper meaning behind it. I'm sure St. Patrick would be appalled if he could see the shenanigans that occur on the holiday dedicated to him, from pranks and pinching to partying in the pubs (honestly, the alliteration was unintentional. I promise).

Last year I shared a prayer by St. Patrick as well as a brief biography. If you missed the post or don't remember, it's an interesting tale of how a formerly wealthy British boy went on to establish hundreds of churches on the island that enslaved him. I cannot even begin to fathom the great faith it must have taken to not only return to the land of his captors, but to love its people.

"It was among foreigners that it was seen how little I was," he writes, in Confessio, one of two short works authored by St. Patrick.

"It was there [Ireland] that the Lord opened up my awareness of my lack of faith... He guarded me before I knew him... He protected me and consoled me as a father does for his son.

That is why I cannot be silent -- nor would it be good to do so -- about such great blessings and such a gift that the Lord so kindly bestowed in the land of my captivity. This is how we can repay such blessings, when our lives change and we come to know God, to praise and bear witness to his great wonders before every nation under heaven."

I am not Catholic, and I'm not sure I could name more a half-dozen saints off the top of my head (actually, I would be surprised if I could name that many). But green is my favorite color, I have an inexplicable fascination with Ireland, and over the years I've become more and more curious about this fellow named Patrick who isn't, in fact, a leprechaun, and may not even have anything to do with shamrocks.

(Confession: I made Irish brown bread yesterday, and I have every intention of wearing green tomorrow.)

Lent

Last year, I compiled a list of books to read for Lent as my way to meditate on the season and prepare for Easter. I never did read Iscariot by Tosca Lee, so perhaps I'll get to it this year. In addition, I found No Wonder They Call Him the Savior by Max Lucado at one of the book sales I scoured last fall and plan to read it in the coming weeks.

Besides reading Lenten-themed books, I have also decided to limit my internet usage in order to make time for more meditative and healthy practices. Staring at a screen tends to have mind-numbing and depressive affects, and I spend far too much time with my laptop open. Jenna from Cold Antler Farm wrote an inspiring post the other day about unhealthy internet usage and what positive things we can do offline instead of the constant, if subconscious, comparisons that often occur during social media perusals.

Three hours per week should allow for 30 minutes each day, not counting Sundays, which I plan to keep unplugged. The extra time not spent on the computer can then be used for Bible reading, yoga, guitar playing, experimenting with new healthy recipes (instead of the usual "ooh look, chocolate!") and who knows, maybe even some poetry writing. And soon will come time for gardening!

Are you doing anything for Lent this year? How do you balance internet and offline time?

wordless wednesday

"God of breaking dawn, you dance the earth into day."

*Quote borrowed from Take Our Moments and Our Days: An Anabaptist Prayer Book

another poem of the gifts

A Thanksgiving-themed scribble modeled after a poem of the same name by Jorge Luis Borges.

Praise to the Lord, our loving and creating Abba,

For songs that paint the air

with blossoms of colors no earthly eye has seen

but the heart feels as tangibly as a bouquet--

For languages unfamiliar to our ears and tongues

and the smiles that transcend them

rendering words useless or unnecessary--

For solitude, for silence,

a spider's thread-width connection to the Divine

strengthened by a moment's pondering of the soul...

books for lent

I always have a difficult time finding good devotional books for Lent (as well as Advent), so I thought I'd provide a few ideas here for those of you who struggle with the same thing, seeing as how Lent is just over a week away!

Last year, I found Meditations for Lent by James G. Kirk at the local library, and it turned out to be a nice devotional. Each day has its own theme, a Bible passage to look up, and a page or so of reflection followed by a short prayer. I was hoping more for something that followed the life--and, most importantly during this season, the death and resurrection--of Jesus, but it covered such a wide range of topics that that was something reserved for Holy Week.

Another library find, Thomas Merton's Seeds of Contemplation isn't actually a Lenten devotional, nor did I read it during Lent. However, I found it to be very inspirational and easy to read. Because it isn't exactly a devotional, it doesn't contain scriptural references, so this book would work better as a companion for meditation.