Pondering

I'm pondering this today...

From Zechariah 7:8-10....The word of the LORD came again to Zechariah: "This is what the LORD Almighty said: 'Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the foreigner, or the poor. Do not plot evil against each other.'

I've read with interest on the recent events regarding the Immigration bill in our Georgia State House, as well as in the federal ranks. I understand the issue, I believe, from both sides. I've seen it from a range of experiences, working with "foreign" victims of crime, and from the legal system. I've seen it from the perspective of an HR manager in the workplace. I've seen it from the perspective of an educator. So, I'm pondering....pondering this verse, and my personal beliefs. I have no answers for myself, not yet.

At 16

Once upon a time, you liked matchbox cars, toy tractors, scooters, and sandboxes. You loved playing in the woods, running the creek, and feeding sugar cubes to the horses. You told elaborate stories of kings, soldiers, and monsters, and made your own swords out of sticks and limbs.

You loved the ocean, rolling in the waves and yelling at the top of your lungs. We built sandcities, big and elaborate. I thought you would be an architect, or an engineer. You loved crabbing on the pier, walking through the old places on the island, and telling ghost stories. You loved ice cream from that special shoppe.

Nowadays you love long hair, video games, computer games, playing the guitar, and acting in your school's improv club. You love your Itouch, and texting on your phone...all the time. You love driving, and dancing, and wearing a fedora.

You are 16 years old today. You are kind, funny, sweet, loving, and what a wild ride you have taken me on. At two, you literally climbed curtains. At four, you took apart the vacumn cleaner... and the VCR... and the TV. I sat on my bed and cried. At seven you read "real books mommy, not those baby books", and did math problems at an amazing speed. At sixteen....you're still my baby. Smart, witty, bright, fun...love. Love in its purest form. Happy Birthday sweet boy.

"Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood, we find a delightful creature of a boy."

An October Night

The wind whispers

A wary warning

There was plenty, still

Early this morning

These primal urges

Are hard to fight

An unholy diet

A dark appetite

The pavement scrapes

With scuttling leaves

I'll pull the drapes

And hope to deceive

The moon suffocates

In ominous clouds

Shut off the lights

Heartbeats too loud

Then the neighbor's gate creaks

But its not the wind

That seeks to feast

On fearing humans

Red brake lights

A car crawls by slow

The shadowy shapes

Of my dark doorstep know

That the empty window

Of my house lies.

The horrible truth

Lies deep inside

Everything tonight

Could have just been dandy

But now the demons have wrath

Cause I ate all the candy!

Happy Halloween!

poem by Charles Audette

Under Old Great Trees

I remember this place, from my childhood, this long road under old great trees. My sister and I would run there, in and out of the trees, picking up acorns, and berries, and leaves of scarlet and gold. My mother and her sister would gather pecans on the nearby farm. Thanksgiving would be here soon, and pecans were needed for pies, cakes, and other southern staples of the season.

I dreamed of this place last night, and Judy, and Mama, and Aunt Elsie. I don't know what took me back there. But for a time, I was there again, under the old great trees.

"I remember more dearly autumn afternoons in bottoms that lay intensely silent under old great trees." C.S. Lewis

October

"A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I made. The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed, are as crisp as autumn air."- Eric Sloane

Dry Spell

I wish I could be one of those cool bloggers, who manage to write something creative, funny, or witty, even inspirational, on a regular basis. You know, the ones that can blog almost daily, or at least weekly? But, I'm not. My blogging seems to come in spirts. Almost as though I have to be in the mood to sit down and write. Shoot, its been 3 months since my last post. Thats quite a dry spell. I suppose I just haven't been inspired, or in the mood. I still love to follow my favorite blogs, I've just been poorly attentive to my own.

So, here's to another go at it...Let's see....

Summer has been very nice so far. I'm working three days a week at the shelter and decided to take off summer quarter from teaching at the local college. I've been to the beach, have worked a bit on remodeling the cottage at the lake, puttered about in the yard and my garden, enjoyed time I could grab with my children. None of those things seem so exciting to blog about. Hopefully...maybe... I"ll get around to posting pictures from our beach trip.

Where, oh where are my creative juices??

Road to the Cross

He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.

By oppression and judgment he was taken away. And who can speak of his descendants? For he was cut off from the land of the living; for the transgression of my people he was stricken.

He was assigned a grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth.

Yet it was the LORD's will to crush him and cause him to suffer, and though the LORD makes his life a guilt offering, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand.

After the suffering of his soul, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities.

Therefore I will give him a portion among the great, and he will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

Isaiah 53:2-12

Today...remembering...imagining....