Share Your World With Cee Cee Pt. 2

So this is my second week sharing my world with Cee Cee and all her readers. Here are this week’s questions:

  1. If you had to move to a state or country besides the one you currently live in, where would you move and why?  Such a hard question! There are so many places I would love to live. Left with one choice though I think I would choose the lakes region of England. Something about it evokes the writer in me.
  2. If your were car or truck what make, model, year and color would you be? I think I would be Subaru because they just keep going and that’s my goal to keep constant! Color don’t really matter just not white and I think pink is out. As to year that doesn’t really matter when you have eternal life! 🙂
  3. What one thing have you not done that you really want to do? Oh my list is long but right up there at the top is to successfully publish.
  4. Where do you eat breakfast? I eat at home or in the car on the way to work, usually coffee and peanut butter toast. My van is for that reason a constant mess.

 

Here are this week’s picture offerings:

C.cada Artists Gathering March

C.cada’s artists are busy about the work of the kingdom! Yesterday one of our new choreographers met with nine children from our kids church to rehearse a sacred dance. Later in the afternoon the space was used by a twenty voice choir to practice for an upcoming work in the nursing home. Space booking is getting a little tricky. I miss my sister who is a whiz at space control and time scheduling!

This month I wanted you to see some of the work we are doing in graphic design.

Here is a piece by one of our portrait artists, Lisa Johnson. It is a portrait of her grandmother who at the moment is preparing to walk into the arms of Jesus.

Lis a keeps telling me how she is desperately trying to break into other art forms. Yet she keeps getting drawn back to the faces of people.

 

 

 

 

 

I have just started working on a photo project called “Broken Branches”

 

Sandy Freeman another of our portrait artists has been working on our invitational card project. Below is a concept for a Mother’s Day invite.

What is God calling you to do with your artistry?

It’s Finally Here!

Well winter has finally arrived folks! It has come to New England just in time to leave. At least it put in an appearance! 🙂

For New Englanders used to the harsh winters of the North East, this year has been a little disconcerting. Even so the snow while sort of comforting was the typical heavy wet spring stuff. It Looks pretty on the trees but is sort of like shoveling mud. Shoveling aside, the countryside of Massachusetts looks so pretty in its seasonal color. Who said white doesn’t work after labor day?Be blessed! JE

Ho! Ho! Boo!

My sister is moving to Amsterdam before Christmas. Since this may be our last opportunity to have a family Christmas for a few years, we thought we would celebrate on Halloween.

I think God loves her a lot. Because this weekend we had a HISTORIC  Halloween snow storm.

I shoveled a foot of snow Saturday night. Then Sunday morning I had another foot to shovel!

 

So today is Christmas and Halloween. We have decided to greet all our trick-or-treaters with a mixed greeting “Ho! Ho! Boo!”

Have you been effected by our HISTORIC world weather? What do you think it is?

Hallowinter?

It snowed today!

 

I know it probably won’t last.

Still it’s not even Halloween.The leaves aren’t even off the trees! That makes this Hallowinter!

And these aren’t footprints in beach sand.

Hallowinter is a truly frightening time!

To coin an old New England saying “I’m wicked scayad!”

How do you feel about Hallowinter? 

 

Autumn Trek Pt.5: The Audubon Loop

     My son saved me hundreds of dollars in hotel costs by letting me sleep in his dorm room. He let me have the bed while he took the floor, because I’m old (according to him) and he’s going to be a missionary; So he needs to practice. I, of course, was entirely compliant not wanting to rob him of his missionary training. 🙂

     We slept well and by next morning we were both ready for action. After donuts and coffee we decided to head out to Mill Grove to walk the trails before Joe had to be back to work at 1 P.M. 

       When the kids were little Tina and I went camping at Lamb City in Phillipston MA. They had a loop trail there too! It was a beautiful trail around the lake, but poorly marked.

    Tina had gone shopping in town. Joe and Amanda were really needing something to do. So leaving Melanie with my brother and sister-in-law I headed out with my three and four-year olds for what was supposed to be a short jaunt around the lake. I knew we were in trouble when I wandered into an apple orchard an hour or so later some two miles from the camp ground. By the time a van loaded with strangers offered us a ride, two hours further into our walk, I really didn’t care if they were axe-murderers the kids and I needed rescuing.

      I share that little story because history has a way of repeating itself. At first Joe and I were only going to walk half the trail and turn back the way we came. Half way in we changed the plan and decided to do the whole loop which was a four and a half mile walk. I thought “I can do this. Let’s impress the whippersnapper!”

The forest trail was beautiful. We found the remnants of an old lead mine and stopped for pictures.

     Of course, being part of the Audubon estate the trail was dotted with bird houses and duck blinds like this one.

      It was all going so well until about here. Then we lost the trail. Oh, we were on a trail all right. We just didn’t know it was the wrong one until we came to a dog park where we asked some friendly dog owners where the Audubon Loop picked back up.

    To which they replied “You walked here from the Audubon loop? Bummer!”

    So…Yeah…Four miles turned into more like eight or ten. The biggest difference between getting lost with my son at four and getting lost with my son at twenty-two is that this time I didn’t have to carry him. Oh, and this time I had a camera. 

Long story short. We lived. We made it back. Joe was only a half hour late for work. But, I’m thinking  maybe that look he gave me when I first arrived was prophetic.

Fallready?

      Wow! Did that summer blow by or what? It seems like just yesterday I was laying down the raised beds in the pseudo-Elizabethan garden and trimming the rose bushes out of the apple tree. Could it possibly be two months since I went to Maine and

lamented that I couldn’t stay for Moxie Day?

     I’m not ready for fall! Autumn cannot  be here! Yet all the signs point to it.

    Tina and I dropped the girls off to college last week. Joe starts his classes at Valley Forge today. So the autumn hush has returned

     to the world. This tell-tale rhythm, of things slowing down as the kids are once again occupied with their adult lives, smacks of the changing season. 

     The summer flowers fade. The bees grow quiet as the evenings turn cool. The golden rod  explodes its sniffly pollen into the chilly breezes that have replaced the summer wind. Mom and Uncle Tom sound like trumpet swans as the evenings tickle their noses and throats with yellow dust that blows in waves across the town. In every roadside crack and crevice autumn flowers poke their noses and heads forth to let us know that the time of dying is here again.

    I know fall is here because that sense of nostalgic hope is back too. It comes as things wilt and pass away, that acknowledgement that this is how it’s supposed to be…the constant ebbing and flowing tide of life. The season makes me look back with longing for what was and forward to what will lie ahead when winter’s grip lays dormant the land I have only just begun to work.

    I am not ready for the season change, but I know it’s time has come. I am laying up the winter sauce and blanching out the beans and squash. The smell of boiling butternut, oregano, basil, garlic, and stewing tomatoes fills every nook and crevice in our kitchen.

     A week ago I was not even aware of any of these things. I may have passed them all by and never once thought of them as the signs of summer’s end. I probably could have forgotten that school, golden rod, or stewing tomatoes meant the beginning of fall. It’s been nice enough that I could have convinced myself that summer had no end… or at the very least it was not near. But here in New England there is one sign none of us can ignore; As certain as the robin means spring or snow fly signals winter, in New England it is the leaves that tell us the time has come. It’s why we call it FALL.

Irene and the Seven-Fold Hedge

     Let me start by thanking all of you who prayed: for me, my family, and the church here in New England through Hurricane Irene. God was merciful to us! 

    Y’know, I believe that when we pray, our starting place is not requesting but abiding. For Jesus said,  “If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you.John 15:7

    For this reason I seldom ask God for something, until I have what I sense is His mind on the situation. I must first spend time in His presence and get His command for the particular situation that concerns me. Then and only then can I pray in faith believing.

    When I knew Irene was coming up the East Coast I was mindful of the fact that perhaps our turn had come to experience the wrath of God. I don’t mean to sound bleak but I do believe our nation, as disobedient as it has been, is beginning to experience God’s judgment.  Massachusetts certainly has no ground to stand on to say we should be exempt from what the rest of the country is experiencing. So as the storm approached I knew we could really be in for it.

     I began by asking God what He wanted for me out of this situation. Was He saying this was it? Was He saying to me “Head for the hills?”

     I didn’t get the sense that this was going to bring about destruction for me or my household. I felt the Spirit telling me to pray around the borders of my house seven times in the Spirit, a seven-fold hedge. On Friday I did just that. I started by the blackberry hedge and began to sing around my mother’s property in tongues. The first time around I sensed I was praying for the trees to stand. The second, I was praying for the ground to drink deeply of the rising waters. I prayed over a dead tree that if it fell it would fall straight down and not come near the house. I prayed that no flood would come to destroy. I asked that the gardens would be spared. I prayed over the transformer at the corner of our property. I prayed a shield of Holy Ghost protection over the walls of the house and the vehicles. I asked God to use the storm to cleanse the land of pestilence. I asked God to prosper us. On Saturday a group of us prayed over the church.

      Early Sunday morning the storm arrived. The rains fell thick and heavy as I walked the dogs at 6 A.M.. We were soaked to the skin in under a minute. The vernal brook that wraps around our house quickly swelled . Debris washed down from the upper pond. By 7 A.M. the brook had swollen to the top of its banks.  By 8 it had risen out of its borders and had taken command of the woods and back yard. It poured over the culvert below our house and into the street flooding our basement and those of our neighbors around the corner. By 9 we had eight inches of water in our cellar and could swim in our backyard. My mother, my sister and I headed to the cellar and began to bail in order to keep the furnace from being submerged. We bailed for a while and then called the town barn to ask them to come clean the culvert.

       A  beech tree loosened by the swelling waters fell over directly between the apple and plum-tree and didn’t break either! 

    The storm winds blew through the night and knocked over one more tree by the brook. The waters receded quickly once the town came and cleared the debris out of the culvert.

    As I watched the news this morning, I realized how blessed we truly were here in Winchendon. God chose to spare us and answer our prayers. Not one of our fruit trees was damaged. The waters are gone and left no sign of the flood.  We now have wood down for next winter and all we have to do is cut it up! And my mother has decided after a decade of haggling with her it is time to get a sump pump! As I see the footage of New York, New Jersey, and Carolina I realize His answer to me when I sought Him could have been far different. The pathway of protection was mine to walk in this instance. For that I am grateful. But I am also mindful that should my pathway have been different God would still have been with me and He would still have provided even if it had been through loss.

God’s Clouds Pt. 2

“…when you see all these things taking place look up! Your redemption draweth nigh!” -Jesus of Nazareth

“You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds.”  ~Henry David Thoreau
“The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.”  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson“To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie –
True Poems flee.”
~Emily Dickinson
“It’s wonderful to climb the liquid mountains of the sky.  Behind me and before me is God and I have no fears. ” ~Helen Keller
Tell me what you see!

Pictures courtesy of Melanie Lillie.