Sunday wanderings...

Yesterday, our family enjoyed the autumn afternoon wandering through an open air art show for local artists. Canvases sat propped against flower pots spilling over with asters and mums. People sat at tiny cafe tables sipping their waters and waiting to be served. Storefront doors stood open, inviting people to come in and browse.

One bookstore looked particularly inviting, so we wandered in (all seven of us)! Alas, it was a bundle of failed potential. The poor owner did not even know who G.K. Chesterton was, and certainly did not have any of his books in stock. However, he redeemed himself by supplying us with two tall Sumatras, and we wandered back to the street comfortable with our coffees in hand, coaxing along three little ones who insisted on stuffing their pockets to brim with acorns.

I was drawn by the strong colors of one oil canvas, a field of poppies thickly painted in the foreground. It made me wonder. Why is color so emotionally potent? Just the thought of russet, ocher, sienna, or burnt orange conjure up a sense of happiness in me.

We tumbled our way back to the car, and loaded up our crew, but with me came three things. Sadness, for a book-dealer unable to acquaint me with Chesterton. Thankfulness for the happiness of sharing a cup of coffee with my husband. And appreciation,for the pleasure of strong, vivid colors.

Eternity in their hearts

Everybody is sick. Monday morning laundry covers the kitchen. Dishes lay piled. Suddenly a little voice says, "Mamma,will you read me a story?" Hmmm...dishes?story?dishes?story? what to do? Well, I doubt my 17 year old will remember the dishes, but I can bet she will remember the stories.

"What profit has the worker from that in which he labors? I have seen the God given task with which the sons of men are to be occupied. He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also he has put eternity in their hearts, except that no man can find out the work that God does from beginning to end." Ecclesiastes 3:9-11

My favorite autumn words

orange
pumpkin
"wanwood
leafmeal"
carmel
cider
swirling
rustling
crunchy
ripened
russet
apple
dusky
aster
crackling
fire
snuggly
sweater
burnt
marshmellow
leafy
smoke

Frost in autumn

My all time favorite poem...just in case no one had realized yet that I am an obsessive, die-hard autumn lover...


AFTER APPLE-PICKING

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing dear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.

Robert Frost

The Hobbitishness of Bach

Below is a link to a good blog from the editors of Touchstone about art, Bach, and pipes....

Article - The Unanguished and Sober Bach

Enjoy with a steaming cup of coffee ... preferably a bold roast Starbucks :)

Nobility of mind...

" The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament (expanse of heaven) shows His handiwork." (Psalm 19:1)

Pondering things outside of my own sphere...stretching my mind, soul, and sight, to comprehend something so vastly beyond myself, wakens in the heart feelings of humility, awe, and adoration.

I wonder if this is not an extension of God's command to, " Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth." (Philippians 3:2) Baseness of mind is the result of a mind preoccupied with eating, sleeping, bodily drives, or amusements. It is the outcome of a mind which never stretches outside of itself, its immediate world.

Nobility and beauty of mind result when a soul reaches outside of its own sphere, when it rises above its physical desires, and stretches to know the beautiful, the macro, the higher. Nobility is intrinsic to a mind turned outward and upward...a mind aching to taste and drink of the Immortal, Invisible, and Infinite.

Warring and dying...

"Has then what is good become death to me? Certainly not! But sin, that it might appear sin, was producing death in me through what is good, so that sin through the commandment might become exceedingly sinful. For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am carnal, sold under sin. For what I am doing, I do not understand. For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do. If, then, I do what I will not to do, I agree with the law that it is good. But now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. For I know that in me ( that is in my flesh) nothing good dwells; for to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find. For the good that I will to do, I do not do; but the evil I will not to do, that I practice. Now if I do what I will not to do, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me.

I find then a law, that evil is present with me, the one who wills to do good. For I delight in the law of God according to the inward man. But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? I thank God-through Jesus Christ our Lord!" - Romans 7:13-25a

"Warring". Could Paul have chosen a more accurate word than this? Blood spilling, sweat pouring, ugly, raw, overwhelming, desperate. When we are at war with our flesh and its lusts, it is like physical battle. We die to self. We are crucified with Christ. All is loss for the sake of Christ. He knows our deepest seated idols, and He rips them out. Spiritual blood spills, agonizing sweat pours, all our vilest sin rears itself, nothing is pretty, hope seems gone, and we die. Self dies the agonizing death of crucifixion with Christ.

Yes, He raises us from the dead, and makes us new creatures in Him. But always, first, we must die.

excuses...

Well, due to sick children, an impromptu trip to Chicago, and other miscellaneous excuses, this blog has been deserted for a while. I am back....