Aslan is on the Move

“Aslan is a lion--the Lion, the great Lion." 

"Ooh" said Susan. "I'd thought he was a man. Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion"...

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver ..."Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”

― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

 C.S. Lewis is both poet and apologist: He is profoundly shaped by imagination and grounded in faith and rational argument. And he, like Aslan, is on the move in a sense into the South Transept of Westminster Abbey later this month.

Oxford novelist, literary critic, and apologist C.S. Lewis died 50  years ago, and his writings resound through the decades to teach and to encourage. Lewis believed that knowledge itself was fundamentally poetic— meaning shaped by the imagination. His was a creative genius using illustrations painted with words to communicate philosophy and truth. His approach to commending and defending the Christian faith still lights the way for us today. 

 

 "Every year you grow you will find me bigger." Aslan

 Aslan, the lion of Narnia, is often said to be 'on the move' as he communicates powerfully a story of divine seeking and provision.  Lewis's series The Chronicles of Narnia has entertained and educated people of all ages. If one would understand a great truth, distil it to its essence and tell it to a child.

His great strength, many say, was his ability to present Christianity both rationally and imaginatively. His rational approach is seen in The Abolition of Man, Miracles, and Mere Christianity. Those who are say they open-minded, if they truly are, will make room for considering the case for faith Lewis makes by reading carefully these works.  

Surprised by Joy contains more about the atheistic and agnostic viewpoint which he had proudly held as truth before he became a believer in Jesus as the son of God--quite a leap, but not at all an emotional experience as many characterize it today.

“Emotional” is perhaps the last word we can apply to some of the most important events. It was more like when a man, after a long sleep, still lying motionless in bed, becomes aware that he is now awake.”
― C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy

 “In reading Chesterton, as in reading MacDonald, I did not know what I was letting myself in for. A young man who wishes to remain a sound Atheist cannot be too careful of his reading. There are traps everywhere — "Bibles laid open, millions of surprises," as Herbert says, "fine nets and stratagems." God is, if I may say it, very unscrupulous.”
― C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy

 
Some of his works are non-theological and are devoted to his scholarly probing of the meaning of words and instructions on careful crafting of literature, as in The Allegory of Love.

Two powerful works that plumb the depth of despair that is an essential part of the human experience are The Problem of Pain and A Grief Observed, written twenty years later.

A Grief Observed is his reflection on the process of grieving for his wife who died of cancer after three years of marriage. His journal entries throughout the months following her death honestly describe his anger and bewilderment at God, his observations of his impressions of life without his beloved Joy, or H (for Helen) as he refers to her, and his process of moving in and out of stages of grieving and remembering her. His growth through pain,  his redefinition of his own characterization of God, and his ability to live gratefully for the gift of a rare true love, ring clearly in this work. This work was troubling for some because the intensity of his grief and profound loss caused him to question what he understood about God.

He is not alone. I believe that such a place of questioning comes to most of us: that time when we reckon with the veracity of that which we always thought to be true. 

There comes a time when we need to know what is bedrock and what is a merely a lovely platitude, but will no longer support the weight of a grief-stricken soul.

What is real, and what is shifting sand or a pacifying illusion? 

The death of illusion is not without value. That which is real can clearly be seen when that which was only illusion falls away, crumbled. If we are seeking the revealing of truth, much that is false must fall away.

The faith we hold and that Lewis recounts will withstand the strictest scrutiny, the closest inspection. What we believe matters. Our 'picture of God' underpinning our beliefs is flawed when we apply to it a saccharine coating--sweet but of no nutritive value--or when our cultural understanding shapes God in our own image.

Those who struggle with the claims of Christ but remain open-minded have pursued Lewis's writings, as well as those of G.K. Chesterton from the former days, and contemporary authors Maxie Dunnam, Ravi Zacharias and Tim Keller among others who embrace varying points of view in their professing Christ. Each of these has helped shape my understanding.

A memorial to Lewis will be unveiled in Poets Corner in the  South Transept of Westminster Abbey on November 22, 2013, honoring his place in history and memorializing his scholarly  contributions. It is fitting that the public announcement of this event says, "all are welcome to attend."

All are welcome indeed: that is what this search for life and faith and meaning is all about. All are invited to have a seat at the table, a place at the feast. The invitation from the Lord God to each of us is not based upon erudition, nobility, education, perfection, goodness, generosity or any measure or condition other than the contrite heart that can answer 'yes'.

 

 Happy Birthday, C.S. Lewis. And thank you.

 

 

Official announcement follows:

C S Lewis Symposium and Commemoration

Thursday 21st and Friday 22nd November 2013
St Margaret’s Church and Westminster Abbey

On the fiftieth anniversary of the death of C S Lewis, Westminster Abbey Institute hosts a series of events marking his career as one of the 20th century's most notable Christian writers and thinkers. As well as celebrating Lewis's remarkable achievements as a writer of fiction, apologetics and scholarship, the series will look at the question of how, in the 21st century, his example may be emulated and his legacy continued.
On Thursday 21st November, Alister McGrath and Malcolm Guite will deliver lectures examining Lewis's philosophical and fictional approaches to communicating the Christian faith.  Michael Ward will chair a panel discussing the strengths and weaknesses of Lewis's various endeavours and taking questions from the conferees. On the panel with be novelist Jeanette Sears, theologian Judith Wolfe, and apologists William Lane Craig, Peter S. Williams, and Michael Ramsden.

No reason ever to be bored...

Of Capes and Mantles

What is it about capes that fascinates boys and girls? We know how they love to drape themselves in a towel or sheet, and suddenly they become taller...braver....and boldly step into the persona of Superman or current superhero complete with sound effects? I witnessed it just this week with trick-or-treaters appearing at the front door.

I recall my cousin Clay's six-year old birthday party offered a garage filled with a dozen boys decked out in superman capes, exhibiting all their superpowers in the simple red capes his momma had zipped out on her machine. Etched in my memory, this scene is unforgettable in its simplicity and endures through the decades as I have watched the heart of his momma weave as a shuttle in the lives of her three sons, all grown, Godly men now with children of their own. There is something about that mantle that, when donned, gives them the confidence to step out as somebody other than who they are at the time. Imagination is invigorating! We can help children see beyond the limitations they face, or appear to face, each day.

I am suggesting that we give them an invisible mantle--one that doesn't come untied and will grow as they age-- an amazing mantle! Where do you get a cape like that? You can make it yourself, no sewing machine needed. I believe the daily prayers of a momma for her child availeth much, an old fashioned way of saying they are effective to provide clothing for the heart, growing soul and expanding mind of a boy or girl whose needs we cannot fully know, though we think we know them inside and out. There is, however, One whose Presence will serve as a shield and buckler, as a sure defense and strong tower--One whom they can learn to trust in time as much as a young child trusts the heart of his momma. Fathers and grandparents as well are capemakers to the little ones in our lives, daily bestowing the mantle that will clothe the interior life of a child.

We keep praying for God's shaping of the frame, God's instilling of dreams and desires, God's bringing to bear fruit in its season. It's not about us, though it is a steep challenge to extricate our identity from our children in this performance-driven society. It is also not about perfection, but you've probably already let that one go. It is the task of a lifetime, if you ask me. It will take everything you have to give. Praying for and with them models a life dependent on God to supply our deepest needs. I'm still doing it, even as I am delighting in a man-son who is grown and bearing witness in his own faith journey and see our daughters likewise living into their pursuit of God's call in their lives. God is faithful even though we are not.

Wow. This began as an early morning email to some young mothers I meet with weekly, but I thought it suitable to share with others. God works like that sometimes--stops us in our tracks while we were busy doing other things and brings to mind a new thing. I hope you find beauty in a new thing today!


(image credit: capes pictured are made by Erin of http://inevergrewup.net/birthday-bash-giveaway-15-cape/)

Lifelong Learners

“Education would be so much more effective if its purpose were to ensure that by the time they leave school every boy and girl should know how much they don’t know, and be imbued with a lifelong desire to know it.”

– Sir William Haley

I am thankful for the early school years my children enjoyed in a place that made learning challenging and fun. I still think of learning as colorful, creative, tactile, wonderfully messy... and fun. There was a spirit of adventure and aliveness that undergirded our home's support of reading, puzzles, painting, cooking, travel and experimenting while learning to do our best in places where we could excel as well as when a child faced a challenge and surmounted the obstacle with effort.

I must confess, the photos in Ann Voskamp's blog post make me wish for the chance to be a homeschool mom and do it all over again--in the old school fashion--as her shots bring to mind memories of my own education in many ways. But we do not get to live our lives over again, so we deliberately choose our paths carefully.

Gifted teachers who poured energy and robust enthusiasm for life into their classrooms--for me and for our children--have a place in my heart. Others, undergoing a hard season personally, illustrated a quiet grace and confidence that they may have doubted occasionally as they led their students through the year the way they were learning to press on themselves: one day at a time. I had respect for their faithfulness in standing firm when life presented tough times.

Thank a teacher sounds like a worn bumper sticker, but I have been giving thanks for some memorable ones today.

My own dear fourth grade teacher is a woman of beauty and grace who has turned ninety years old. I thought of her again this week when I met her daughter and reminisced about my delight in her classroom.

And then it hit me: each of us is a teacher to someone. May we try to be among the best of them as God gives us grace to experience the joy of learning something new for a long, long time.

And I think again...

One daughter dressed herself for kindergarten and first grade career days in a smock and carried brushes and palette. Among all the veterinarians, doctors, nurses, firefighters and pro football players, she walked her little quiet self into the classroom and said she wanted to be an artist. Twice.

Years passed.

The little girl grew up.

She got her start in a place that encouraged a love of learning new things. She wrote an international training manual for a French company while in New York. She has researched human behavior and marketing and has worked in communications and product placement with some interesting people. She published a book chapter on autism in children. She appreciates a connection between creativity and the brain and may be continuing to pursue that point in her lifelong learning.

And recently, she began to put brush strokes on canvas. Small steps...one at a time... a bit of paint on the brush applied with, I suspect, the same spark of curiosity she displayed at age five. Isn't that we way we learn to do anything new?

Much to my delight and to her great enjoyment, she has completed some water colors and works of art in oil. She is taking the next step. That is all we have to do: just take the next step on the journey. Start something. Finish something. Learn from it.

May God guide our next step in living into who we are and who we want to be and do. Thank someone who has guided your next step as we continue to learn each day.

For in him we live, and move, and have our being. As some of your own poets have said, 'For we are also his offspring.' Acts 17:28

The Lord said to Moses, “See,...I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with ability and intelligence, with knowledge and all craftsmanship, to devise artistic designs, to work in gold, silver, and bronze, in cutting stones for setting, and in carving wood, to work in every craft." Exodus 31:1-6

Basket of Pears, by Rhymes Stabler taken from Photo by Rachel Kabukula who has other beautiful farmers' market finds on her blog.

A Fresh Look for Timeless Words

Sometimes we need a little help from our friends.

Reframing our circumstances--literally--gives us a new perspective we need as we try to practice gratitude as a way of life. And a fresh take on beloved scriptures keeps the inspiration before us in a colorful, visible way, if that creativity speaks to your heart.

Jen created and offered this rendering of a beloved text free for copying and framing on her site at http://theloganfamily.wordpress.com/2011/05/13/free-art-print-psalm-374/ . Thank you for that!


I contemplated this text previously when considering that sometimes it is--I believe--mistakenly interpreted to mean "God will give you what you want."

I have had to re-frame my thoughts on it.

Let our love be genuine.

Let our heart's desire be fully centered on God, and not on manipulating our thoughts or actions in any way.



For more on my post regarding this text:

Delight yourself in the Lord, and you will receive the desires of your heart. That was how I recalled this verse from memory, even writing it down that way recently in a journal. It would be easy to loosely translate this statement, "If you act like you are delighted in the Lord , then you will get what you are hoping for." That approach is even preached in some churches. However, when I went to the source to find the cite for Psalm 37, I found that it was not written as I had recalled.

"Delight yourself in the Lord,
and He will give you the desires of your heart."

Do you catch the difference? God does the giving! God plants the desires into our hearts! God is able to establish what it is that we long for...what we love....where our heart's desire is. God is able to change our minds and hearts, to do miraculous things in our lives, to recalibrate our very thinking when we live with delight in the Lord.

Are you out of love? God can sow a fresh desire for your spouse or loved one when you think there is nothing left to breathe life into. Out of resources? Let the One who owns the cattle on a thousand hills and created all that is show us how to manage or create in another way. Out of time? God does His best work in tight spaces. It is only the 11th hour to us; God has all the time in the world!

Our part is to 'delight ourselves in the Lord' and leave it to God to give us the desires of our hearts. I believe it is then that a circle of sorts completes. We may find that we desire the things of God....that we delight in the things of God....and discover a unity of Spirit and purpose as we live life with the Spirit of Truth abiding within. (See John 14 for more on the Spirit.)


(excerpt from http://meditationsinthenightwatch.blogspot.com/2010/11/fret-not.html )

What Make Us Happy?

Life's interruptions give us the opportunity to press the reset button. We can draw courage and inspiration from others who experience setbacks and refuse to let it destroy their spirits.

Today's night musing is a treat from a young friend who has just returned from Johns Hopkins after summer brain surgery with a very good prognosis and an inspiring outlook beautifully expressed in her words below. With her permission, I'm delighted to share her words with you. She was pursuing her doctorate in English when her plans were interrupted. I'm thinking there is some writing in her future still!

I love the way she puts it! We may say we believe that we don't find happiness in our external circumstances, but we reveal our true selves when we keep living frantic lives desperately seeking after an elusive happiness somewhere else. I hope her words lift your spirits too! Have a beautiful day!

~Marita

Another Midnight Ramble

So many people on the highway just go too fast.

And so many people also speed through life too fast. Or at least that is true of me.

Having brain surgery certainly forced me to slow down and live more in the moment.

I’m still a very active and motivated person. That has not changed. I even started a new job this past Monday! Simon and I are having so much fun caring for and playing with another little boy a little younger than Simon. They are becoming good friends already.

When I was strolling these sweet boys around the neighborhood the other day, I ignored the heat and humidity and thought about times in my life when I have spent so much time racing around, being too busy, thinking about the next item to check off my to-do list, and I have not stopped to be in the moment or really think about whether my actions were making me happy.

You see, I had a bad habit.

I would tell myself lies.

I will be happy when I buy this outfit.

I will be happy when I graduate from college.

I will be happy when I get married.

I will be happy when I have a baby.

I will be happy when I find my ideal job.

I will be happy when I make a certain amount of money.

And I found myself doing it this summer, too.

I will be happy when the brain tumor is out.

I will be happy when I am finally home.

Hmm, not cured.

There is a problem with this kind of thinking. If happiness is entirely based on the exterior circumstances of my life, then I probably won’t find lasting happiness.

Now, I should say that my life keeps getting better the older I get (Turning 30 next month suddenly doesn't seem quite so scary after my recent experiences). I am so happy as a wife and as a mother. But my lasting happiness shouldn’t depend entirely on two people. And what a hard burden to place on those two people I love so dearly!

So I started to think about some things that make me happy in the moment. Here’s what I came up with off the top of my head:

Being helpful to others

Breathing the salty air at the beach

Feeling the sea breeze on my face

Swimming laps at the pool

Sipping iced tea on a screen porch

Picking apples at an orchard

Cuddling under warm quilts with my husband and son

Walking around neighborhoods full of historic homes

Getting absorbed in a novel

Reading stories to enthusiastic children

Eating chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven with cold milk

Going on dates with my husband

Talking around a campfire

Waking up in a tent to the sound of birds

Listening to Simon laugh

Visiting new places and trying new things

Wearing clean pajamas

Eating lazy pancake breakfasts

Watermelon

Taking hot showers

Washing dishes after a dinner party with friends

Browsing used bookstores and libraries

Finding treasures at yard sales or consignment sales

Drinking hot tea

Holding human babies (and animal babies)

Visiting farms

Singing anything from hymns to silly songs

Being a passenger on a country drive

Pulling on warm socks in winter

Riding on trains

Contemplating Italian Renaissance paintings

Experiencing new children’s museums, zoos, and aquariums (and old favorites)

Opening a new box of crayons

Listening to Simon talk

Camping in the mountains

Putting words on paper

Making plans

Wandering farmer’s markets and natural grocery stores

Watching Simon play with wooden toys that will last for his children

Receiving letters in the mail

Being awake in the early morning before anyone else is up

Decorating real Christmas trees

Carving pumpkins

Cooking for my family

Sewing practical things made from beautiful fabric

Listening to street musicians

Capturing my family's life on film

Eating picnics by the water

Lying on a blanket, looking up at the trees

Drinking fresh orange juice

Many of these are very accessible joys, but sometimes I am moving so fast that I forget to be in the moment and truly appreciate them.

This past week has been a bit stressful. We received the extraordinary gift of movers to help us move to help minimize our stress. And yet, lots of various things have gone awry. The moving van didn’t fit all of our belongings. The moving van wouldn’t go into our driveway. The renters didn’t leave our house in pristine condition. The air conditioning needed multiple repairs. The bookshelf wouldn’t go where I wanted it to. We couldn’t find our modem. The foundation still needs repairs. We have multiple stacks of bills that need to be paid and letters that need to be answered, and I don’t know where all the stacks are anymore. There are boxes everywhere. I still owe a lot of people thank-you notes, and I am not even sure that my list is complete. I am not sure that I know where my stamps are. My old computer with lots of important files on it didn’t survive the move. The windshield on my car is cracked, and the rearview mirror fell off. There is a mouse living in the wall.

I could go on.

But I won’t.

My physical and emotional endurance are still slightly lower than my pre-surgery self, although they are greatly improving every day. I have had so many insights about my life these past months, but that doesn’t mean that I always act on them. I am a normal person. Sometimes stressful things are overwhelming to me, even when I put them in the perspective of having had brain surgery several weeks ago.

Every once in a while, I just feel tired, and I want to crawl into a hole.

Most of the time, I keep calm and carry on.

It is true that I do feel so much happier now that we are finally home and I am able to be increasingly independent and active. I am happy to be working and spending time with Simon and settling in and reconnecting with lots of people.

That’s not the point, though. The point is that I need to savor each day, regardless of what that day brings. I need to live more in each moment.

Even on the day of my brain surgery, there were joys to be savored. Laughing along with an incredibly kind and funny nurse who put all the nervous patients in the pre-op room at ease. Waking up and being able to see. Soothing my throat with a popsicle.

That is one of the great wonders of spending time with very young children, watching them experiencing joy in the present moment, without much thought for the past or the future.

For the record, I have experienced at least 19 of the joys on my list already this week, and it is only Wednesday. I must be doing something right!

In the meantime, I have stayed up way past my bedtime, and none of this makes any logical sense in my head anymore. We had a very productive evening after Simon went to bed, and now the majority of the rooms in our house are liveable, organized, and lovely. So now it is time to sleep.

(Photo a delightful sight of mine: farmland in the Amish country of Pennsylvania)

Still Crazy-Awesome After All These Years

I don't know about the rapture predicted for Saturday, but I can tell you about a rapturously wonderful evening at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville last night.

This venue with its long history of country and gospel greats -- can I get a witness? -- was home to Paul Simon in his spring 2011 sweep of the known world yesterday. If you have listened to American music since the mid-1960s, you've heard his music. If you're temporarily unfamiliar, Google or Youtube ... say... Mother And Child Reunion, Kodachrome, The Sound of Silence, Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes for a sampling.

Hard to list only a few. I've already left out some favorites: Julio. Graceland. You Can Call Me Al. It's a wonder that I can think at all.

The anthology of his work is impressive as a composer, vocalist and guitarist. Triple threat and then some. He shows mastery of rhythm, percussion, syncopation. And the team of musicians playing with him? Spellbinding.

I feel like I've fallen and I can't get up when I begin waxing about this man, Paul. It might also be said that I don't get out much. But you know how we just want to tell the story of something so right before we're all just slip slidin' away? There must be fifty ways to tell an American tune. His music takes us to the Mardi Gras and speaks of peace like a river. He writes of mother and child and father and daughter. Hearts and bones are exposed before we're gone at last. And he keeps on writing. The landscape moves from Puerto Rico to Memphis, from Louisiana zydeco to Brooklyn and even under African skies; the world is his canvas.

Late in the evening, I had a dream fulfilled in Nashville: I got to sing The Boxer right along with him, as the Ryman's audience joined in without embarrassment. Did we look like those old people in the audiences on MTV's fundraising nights? Probably so. But some of these baby boomers also had their college age kids in tow. A University of Michigan sophomore drove with her dad from Indianapolis and sat beside us, loving the show. She got it. There were also many twenty-somethings gathered among friends having a huge time. The enthralled audience rose to its collective feet in thunderous applause and wild whoops and whistles early on, raising the roof on that 1892 wooden pew-lined house and savoring the night with profound appreciation for the the artist known as rhymin' Simon.

He said one of the joys of playing in Nashville was being able to reunite with some music legends whom he then invited onstage to play with him. A good time was had by all, as we say in the country.

Can one be a living legend? I think so. In fact, I've just seen it done.

I'm grateful for my husband's gift from the heart of the tickets for this little slice of heaven. A heart full of music provides a soundtrack for any occasion -- soulful, melancholy ballads, songs of devotion or searching, and spirited, joyful accompaniments for all of life's journeys. Paul Simon's songs are going on six decades now. And he showed no signs of letting up. The man's a true performer: two and a half hour show with no break. Guitar change with each song. No one went away empty as a pocket.

This prolific writer and composer has devoted much of his interest later in life to developing the theme of love and its many manifestations, including the spiritual dimensions -- a pursuit that has many searching for the meaning within his music.

I close with his image in a lesser-known song that corresponds to a train whistle, a beloved sound from my childhood often imitated by my grandfather from his days at the old Illinois Central line:

Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it's true
What is the point of this story?
What information pertains?
The thought that life could be better
Is woven indelibly
Into our hearts
And our brains

I am thankful for the way music lifts our spirits and moves our hearts as we experience myriad messages of love and manifestations of God's loving kindness in this life. We walk a shared journey and must choose for ourselves which spirit voices to heed.

(Baby Boomer Bonus: If you were a “Highlights” reader, you may remember Hidden Pictures. Twenty-five titles or lines from his music are found above.)

Fresh Insights

A foolish consistency
is the hobgoblin of little minds....

Ralph Waldo Emerson 1803-1882



Genius, in truth, means little more than the faculty of perceiving in an un-habitual way.

William James 1842-1910

Habits are hard to break. We can become addicted to our own habits and patterns, making them rituals in our day. There is both comfort and confinement in this routine. Emerson's excerpt from Self-Reliance mentions a foolish consistency. Note, he did not discourage consistency, only that which is unexamined.

Take a fresh look at what we do day to day that becomes the cumulative expression of our priorities and convictions. Let us examine our habits to see if our actions align with what we say we value and hold dear. If there is 'foolishness' there - unhealthy patterns and things that do not add to the quality of our relationships or support the needs of ourselves or others - then make a change.

Consistency is sorely needed in child-rearing, in communicating love and respect, and in maintaining healthy relationships, but that consistency is best fueled by wisdom. To be able to change course as needed and to alter our behavior and habits is not whimsical or ephemeral, but necessary as we respond to a changing landscape which is the terrain of our lives.

Be willing to be misunderstood by others, to be different and swim against the flow. A slavish adherence to popular culture and opinion binds the mind and heart. A heart and mind constricted results in small thinking. Be open to fresh insights in the day. God can touch us in the most unexpected moments when we are open to a fresh brush with the Spirit.

New Life for an Old Singer

After writing about the state of the union's grievous generation-skipping home ec skills, I have tuned in to recent news this week of twenty-somethings who are already well underway in various life pursuits which address the generational domestic deficit. Case in point:

1. www.salliekate.blogspot.com
Anyone who has used the old enamel black Singer sewing machine with its fancy gold scroll work will appreciate the joy of recycling that mainstay of American domestication for use in a new decade. A talented woman with an artful touch, Sallie Kate Dean, posted some classic Singer shots with her new projects that will bring back memories.

2. Fitness, Food and Faith was the public blog by one who inspires me daily as the writer shared her zest for life and her domestic prowess, putting me to shame. She is an original Pioneer Woman without the prairie. Her blog referenced here has been privately shelved awaiting another life stage at which I suspect it will emerge in full glory. The link was originally published in this post, but is not edited. We miss it, Sam!

3. Olivia, a young Northwestern University journalism grad with a good job (no small feat in itself in 2011), also attends culinary school in San Francisco to deepen her experience and knowledge base because she wants to be a food writer. Food critics and blogs are abounding in this decade for men and women as the industries supporting them are not gender specific.

I celebrate that these and scores of other young women in 2011 are free to choose to develop that creative part of themselves and share it with others. They are as confident in the kitchen as they are in the courtroom or boardroom or hospital ER or classroom. They are not only moving with assurance to accomplish what used to be called domestic tasks, they are doing it with style and wondering what the fuss is all about. It's just life, they might say.

Hand of the Artist; Heart of God

God is so good and His mercy endures forever. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

Mary's handwritten words accompanying this watercolor in rich browns and blues were among the blessings in my day yesterday. The beautiful painting was a gift from my friend since first grade. Reproduced here after scanning and copying, the colors and shading are not accurate, but I wanted to share this image.

Mary, though bound by the crippling effects of rheumatoid arthritis, displays an artistry and fine coordination that defies her hands' limitations. People are surprised she can write, and to see Mary paint is astonishing. Maybe her spirit of gratitude and joy for the presence of the Lord in her life tempers the pain of her disease just a bit, making it bearable 'for the glory of God'. She lives to make Him known and to share the love of Jesus with all. I am learning much through my friends, and Mary is a great example of perseverance and faithfulness.

I have a dream of helping Mary share her paintings and her faith. I am contemplating this idea....

Psalm 57:10 was the inspiration for her the one pictured here:

"For Your Mercy reaches unto the heavens and Your truth unto the clouds. "

For the ancient writers, such a distance was unfathomable. The psalm gave voice to their conviction that as far as one can see, God's mercy and truth are higher still! Thanks be to God.