Noise

I'm starting to feel a little noise....

Once upon a time, my world was full of noise, both literally and figuratively. Teaching music class in a school with several hundred kids in it is sufficient to fill one's world with noise. Because of the stress of that, the noise carried over into my personal life as well. It seemed that everywhere the sounds of STUFF surrounded me, distracting me, filling up my ears and my head with the general buzz of the hive of humanity.

Yuck.

I can feel it coming back, little by little, insidiously.

It's my fault, and I need to stop it.  And so I will.

I am tooo emotionally tied up in this election. What would happen if I just let all that go, say **** it and just live where I live, in God's favorite (I think, but then again, you know He has lots of faves) place in the world?  Is that being irresponsible? I know when it gets to the point that it's keeping me up nights, and I am beating my head against the wall (figurately, for sure), and preaching only to a small small choir, maybe I need to let go.

And so I will.

I've been busy making stuff, and, I am pleased to say, making a little money, too. It's gratifying to know that people like my stuff.

But with busy-ness comes noise. I find myself needing to make lists to keep on top of my inventory needs, so instead of coming to work every day and saying, "What do I feel like making today?" it is more like, "What do I have to hurry up and make today?"

Noisy, noisy, noise!

Even being home on a lazy Sunday didn't help me today. Television noise downstairs, computer noise upstairs. It's time for hot chocolate or tea and sitting by the window wrapped in a warm shawl.

I'm ashamed at how little bird-watching has been going on lately, too

Or taking a drive deep into the quiet of the woods.

Stopping to take slow breaths of the silent cold air.

Or to feel the deep reflection of trees on the still water.

To watch the sky darken.



Or the moon rise.

To close my eyes, right now, as I am typing, and know that the noise is no one's fault, including mine, but also, that I do have the power to quiet it all by myself.

The seasons are telling me to step quietly through the woods and fields and along the shores that are my home.

To slow my steps and my breathing and my heart and my mind.

To stop listening to the noise, and to stop contributing to it myself.

I am so thankful to live in a world of seasons.



Thank You.

Amen.

Just Checking In: Chapter 1

I have started this post several times, but I don't have anything clever to say.

Felicity

Bliss

That sigh you release when you are surrounded by wordless beauty.

That is my every day and every day and every day.

Pictures can't even capture it.  I guess you have to be here.  To live, or vacation, or just visit.

Last night, Bob and I left work late.  The sun was going down and the fading light was perfect.  Too dark to take pictures, and for some reason, I can't capture on my camera that ethereal pink and glowing yet shaded blue in the eastern sky as the sun sets in the west.  Then add every leaf color imaginable.  Then multiply how beautiful you think that would be times ten.  At least.

See?  I can't describe it.  You have to be here.  I wish you were.

A hint of what it is:

I know, right?  There are no words.

I wish you were here.

God Is in the Details

God is in the details.

I tried to find out who said this first.  But I don't think anyone knows for sure.    It's possible the first memorable utterance of these words was spoken thusly: "God is in the detail." Supposedly it's more about how you should pay attention to your work and do it well, down to the last detail...maybe because God is watching.

And then what?

Thou shalt be rewarded in heaven?

I interpret this phrase in a slightly different way, I think.

When I look at the details of God's creation, I get what I think is a tiny, tiny hint of what heaven is all about.  And I think that's why God wants me to notice them.

Last night, I was watching the movie "God's Not Dead" on television.  I'm sure you've heard of it.  It got a good rating from Christian groups.  If you are an atheist, you probably didn't like it, or didn't watch it, or felt uncomfortable about it.

I happen to think it made some good points.  See, when I look at creation, especially here in the UP, I have to see intelligence and not chance.  It makes no sense to me otherwise.  What else but God could be so immense and so very, very small all at the same time?

Yesterday we went for a drive through the forest.....I know....surprising, huh?  It was a little rainy, a little cold, and most of the fauna were snuggled away in their warm places.

or could be a hobbit...not sure

 The flora, however, gave an outstanding show.  The colors of autumn are just getting started, with a splash here and there.

SPLASH!

What was especially beautiful was the subtle light through the big trees along Robbins Pond Road. I recommend you drive there sometime.  Big red pines in their straight long lines:

looks inviting, huh?

the almost-sunny light from above, the ethereal lightening of mist in the interior.  I can't describe it correctly.

so I'll just show you

It was quiet and magic.  Not magic.  It was, as always, a gentle nudge from God.  It's the same thing I do when I create something in my shop that I think is especially pretty or unique.  I nudge my husband to see if he has noticed.  Is God looking for compliments like I sometimes do?  I think it's more like the nudge you give your children when you are traveling, and their heads are down, playing their videos or electronic games, and you want them to notice something in the landscape.  Not because you are looking to get anything from it, but because you want to make sure they don't miss out.

Monet understood

God doesn't want us to miss out on heaven.  So he shows us glimpses, every day and every day, to remind us to stay on the road, to lift our heads from our games and work and distractions and just SEE...

I hope you get it.  Because think this picture is beautiful.

The UP is a miraculous place. Because the glimspes come often.  In big nudges,

I know...

details

the trail less traveled

and tiny ones.

I have no idea what plant this is, but I've never seen leaves do this before

I hope you like lichen....

lots of details

...every day and every day.  Ironically, today as I type this, God is speaking, not in a still small voice, but it a noisy, big wind, with lots of rain. Those little details require a lot of water to grow, I guess.

Amen, God.  

Amen.