“When I go to visit I always find her out in her walled garden with her hands sunk into the mulch, kneading the roots of her camellias. If she isn’t home, I walk down to the end of the historic cobbled street and find her standing on the sea wall in her raincoat and no shoes, glaring at the ocean. Orleanna and Africa at a standoff. The kids flying by on bicycles steer clear of this barefoot old woman in her plastic babushka, but I can tell you she is not deranged. My mother’s sanest position is to wear only the necessary parts of the outfit and leave off the rest. Shoes would interfere with her conversation, for she constantly addresses the ground under her feet. Asking forgiveness. Owning, disowning, recanting, recharting a hateful course of events to make sense of her complicity. We all are, I suppose. Trying to invent our version of the story. All human odes are essentially one: ‘My life: what I stole from history, and how I live with it.’
“How can I explain that my two unmatched halves used to add up to more than one whole? … And how can I invent my version of the story, without my crooked vision? How is it right to slip free of an old skin and walk away from the scene of the crime? We came, we saw, we took away and we left behind, we must be allowed our anguish and our regrets….”
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver from “Exodus: What We Carried Out”
Dragonflies eat mosquitoes.
It has not been an uncommon thing for me to question why God created mosquitoes. They are mischievous little creatures who cause my skin to blow up. There is simply nothing about them that I understand to be beneficial in any way.
Dragonflies eat mosquitoes.
Dragonflies are sometimes very beautiful, and sometimes simply just odd-looking. And sometimes, because of their method of flight, they can be a little troublesome. Until you realize it’s just a dragonfly. But even then, they can still seem a little pesky.
My point is just that sometimes I wonder why something is the way it is, but then I realize that there is something else to balance it out. It doesn’t necessarily make me wonder why less. But it does make me feel a little more certain about living in the balance, regardless of my affinity for the balancing factor.
There is an app for the iPhone called Talking Carl.
I paid money for it at the request of one particular tiny gentleman…
… just to see this:
Being an aunt ROCKS.
Great article by Paul Tripp.
I relate to the one comment made so far, basically asking the question, “How do we correct our unbelief in the area of grace?”
I know my life would be radically different – more vibrant, confident, and peaceful – if I lived in the true knowledge and understanding of God’s grace. But how do I get from here to there?
My gut response is just to be more devoted in my daily walk with God – reading and praying more. But is there more to it?
Everyone does it in a variation of the same.
The It’s-So-Hot Face is a combination of furrowed brow of confusion, mouth turned in disgust and slightly open in shock, and eyes of depression. The It’s So-****ing-Hot Face is all of the above with a more angry twist.
Seriously, next time you walk outside into the ****ing Texas heat with a spouse/friend/acquaintance/complete freaking stranger, become self aware and check out your own face. Then, check out the face of your companion, who is by now entirely too hot to be aware of themselves. I promise it will be there, even if only for a moment.
Posted in confessions
Road trips are the best. Definitely one of my favorite things of all time.