Poem : Easter Sunday

Easter Sunday
My heart is most thankful at the end of a day
when my appetite for life is deeply satisfied.
When working hands are stilled
stomachs filled
and eyes have cried the tears that say,
“this is my life – 
take it all from me”
because I know
that You are so much more adept
at making it beautiful.
How was your Easter weekend, friends? Mine was less about momentum with my blog and work and more about catching up on life at home since I’ve been so busy. I had time to rest, clean, make Easter dinner for my husband and a friend (steaks, roasted carrots and parsnips with a honey glaze, basil mashed potatoes), and – most important of all – reflect on my faith.
Sometimes stepping away from my work can go a long way toward recharging my creative energy – when I went to bed last night my mind couldn’t rest without jotting a few thoughts into a poem after a whole weekend of no writing. I think sometimes putting our hands to work helps our minds rejuvenate. Today I’m ready to put my nose to the grindstone and get back to making plans, dreaming big, and writing.

What are the things that help you rest and refocus?

Mine: cooking and cleaning.

Much love to you on your Monday, friends.

On Finding Things.

The impossible has happened. My brother called me today: O’Hare Airport Security found his stack of vinyls that we thought were lost forever, safe and sound, right where he left them on a lobby table at the Hilton. What are the odds?
I can’t deny it. After my downer of a post yesterday, it would be wrong of me not to write in response to my own pessimism with the truth that sometimes miracles, even small ones, do happen.
Remember that list of things lost in yesterday’s post?
The grapes, the postcards, the pants, the cell phone, the camera, the laptop charger? What I didn’t tell you is that I actually did get some of those things back.
The camera I left in a cafe in Vienna was waiting for me when I dashed across the city to grab it before I missed my train home.
The pair of pants were neatly folded along with some clean sheets in the laundry room of the hostel in Florence where I left them.
The time when I got lost on a crowded street in Amsterdam it just so happened that I was in possession of our group’s cell phone, and I was able to call the one other person in our group who also had a cell phone. She found me within minutes and I was soon safe in the arms of my companions.
Why was this an unimportant piece of the story yesterday?
Sometimes, having faith makes it hard to reconcile my fear and doubt and disappointment. If we can convince ourselves that miracles don’t happen, then the pain of losing out on the things we want most might somehow be easier to deal with.
So then, what do I do with the found things in my life? The miracle moments when all of my pessimism and cynicism are met with the impossible? Against all odds, I’m standing in the moment I feared would never come, holding in my hands the thing I never thought I’d see again. And how do I reconcile that with the moments when I don’t get what I’m hoping for?
It should be obvious by now that I’m not just talking about finding records and cameras and pants. It’s not even about losing and finding myself on a street corner in Amsterdam.
Maybe what I need is not the thing I want itself. Maybe I just need to find the faith to accept life as it is, lost or found.

A Wager and the Weather.

What are the odds that things will turn out as planned?
What are the odds that things will go our way, just this once?
How much do you want to bet that the person who said they would call or lend a hand or fulfill their promise will flake out?
Is it possible that the weatherman’s blizzard predictions will be right this time?
Why are we not surprised to wake up the morning after a blizzard and realize that the plowman, in the midst of white-out conditions, did in fact, hit your car last night?
And so I often wonder if I would make more money by betting against my own life than I would investing in it.
Despite that, I’m still probably the only person left in the Midwest that can honestly say that I love snow. Right now it’s snowing my favorite kind of snow – giant, fluffy flakes that hang heavy on tree branches and window sills and cover the world in a blanket of quiet.
There’s the snow that leaves you with the peaceful, quiet, contented feeling.
And there’s the snow that reminds you : the world, nature, the environment is a force to be reckoned with.
Either way, it’s not in my control. There’s a time and a season for both. With that in mind, I’m dropping all of my predictions, expectations and disappointments. I’m just trying to heed the warnings and avoid getting caught in the midst of it.