Category Archives: play

True Worship & Fearing Change: An Abstraction on Table {Day 12}

An abstraction on a Table: A prompt by Amber Haines….

Beautiful wood that is so old, it’s called antique, which sounds such fragile a word. Of course, its purpose was a place to serve meals, but to a kid, it can be a fort, a castle, or the carpet underneath a forest floor, legs rising tall as trees. All of us grandchildren used to play under its delicately routed and carved legs and underbelly.

It cast such dark shadows that hid me and no one could find me. Underneath there, I was a queen or a damsel in distress, tracing the curved lines and crevices in hopes of escape from my soft-carpeted prison.

From underneath my hiding place, I could spot, just dimly lit in soft, heavy-curtained afternoon light up on the buffet table, the old iridescent blue set of bowls, one holding old-fashioned candies of all flavors. Absolutely fascinating and irresistible to a child. It was my sole mission to play underneath the table long enough so that my Granny wouldn’t notice when I snuck quickly out, tip-toed to the blue bowl to grab a candy.

All of the precious memories of Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, and Sunday dinners were made here.

The best memories were the Sundays when Granny had Chicken and Dumplins or blackberry cobbler waiting on me, my favorites.

Years and years later, after this little girl had grown up, the table became a sort of gift from my grandparents, who had no place to put it in their new apartment.

They had given up their home to a son, and it was eventually sold, a sad time for us all as the memories went with it.

Now the table sits in my high-ceilinged home, not on carpet, but on old, brightly polished pine floors. It’s a deep mahogany and makes the mood dark. It needs a fresh coat of white paint, slapped on heavy and thick with love, which would make the whole room lovely.

Then some of those grooves, crevices, the caving-in places I tried to escape as a child will fade into the background, and the past will be the past.

But then I worry about change–it’s been the way it is for so long. My heart stops a bit to think of the eternal consequence of marring such a priceless item with paint.

Now, where it sits, it’s a place of gathering, it seems to magnetically draw us all together.

No matter the chaos going on around the home– paper cut-outs being thrown awry, sisters chasing one another–screaming, me fussing at a daughter to just finish the sweeping already, and oh my aching head–when we all sit down at the table, candles lit, and we slide into our familiar places, something just feels right and it’s home.

It feels familiar and yet uncomfortable as children begin to bang, and to argue and to wail, to complain about the food.

High-pitched yelling and wailing is like nails on the chalkboard of my nerves. The banging and the water glass knocking over is more than I can handle. I shift in my seat, look for a way out, want to escape.

But here, in this familiar safe place, we all do the necessary thing. We gather. We are community. Every day, no matter what. We need the safe rhythm, the consistency.

Husband prays for us to love one another better as we hold hands, and this convicts me.

And these, these children and this husband around my table, they are my people, my church.

We are the body broken, and we worship with quieted spirits that want to bolt, and we do the hard work of staying.

We raise glasses to mouths and swallow down water and offer words of love where there has been grating of nerves and this is our true worship.

Linking up with Amber

Also linking up with The Nester, and all the other 31-Dayers.…This ought to be one wild, brave ride…

Do you struggle with fear of change, or fear of the everyday change, the always fluid problems that come our way, like wailing and arguing at the supper table? Please tell me your story? Have you seen God redeem these anxieties? Have you found grace? Your comments so encourage me. I draw strength from your kind words and knowing you were here. My faith walk is seasoned with the right ingredients when you hang around…


This is one post in a series of 31 days of Fear. You can find the entire 31 Day collective here. 

I hope you will come with me on this journey–to get a taste of glorious redemption as I soul-search and look for Jesus smack-dab in the middle of my fears. And Jesus sits with sinners. I won’t have to look very far.

I pray God gives me the strength and the courage to complete 31 days–y’all, it’s going to be hard on this ‘ol gal to write every.single.day. Pray for me?   

Some other 31 Day collectives I’m loving: Shelly @ Redemptions BeautyAmber Haines , and Lisa-Jo

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Graceful: A Summer Captured {Five Minute Friday}

Graceful like the long flowing sundress I’m wearing, and the hot summer breeze that takes my breath away.

Like so much butter pecan ice cream piled high, root beer poured in and how we all just slow down for a moment and watch as it froths up in the breeze of the kitchen fan, summer a damp sheen on our skin. Husband watches too, a proud satisfied smile, his reward.

It’s how we take a root beer float to a little girl down the street, how we just walk right up and they aren’t expecting it, and her grin spreading wide and captivating me.

 
 

We shovel dirt, breaking in brazen sun, beads of sweat rolling down the small of my back.

It takes work to make things beautiful. I am thankful for the warm days to bathe in.

A little one takes a break, face red, she lies across the pool slide. We plant lillies, their orange manes roaring up a hello at me.

We put our meat on a stick right down into a flame, and marshmellows over a fire taste yummy and  gooey and sticky on little hands.

 
 
 
 

We play dress-up and have fabulous plays, we chase lizards and frogs, and the smell of hay and fresh-cut grass catches us by surprise, traveling inside and filling our heads with the grainy, earthy aroma.

                                                          

 

It’s the simple things that are filled with so much grace.

It’s in how I take a blanket out and it parachutes down softly hitting the ground, covering so gently underneath dappled, cool light.

We find a flat spot for steaming green tea made cool by frozen cubes plunked in. I cut into the dripping yellow running over the stiff white with the steely, hard edge of a fork.

We lengthen and stretch out our day, give it a rhythm of words called out and problems added up and subtracted and the answer is one graceful summer.

***It took a little longer than 5 minutes to write this–but I had so much fun with it; I didn’t worry about how my writing sounded, as the rules go–just what came to mind and heart– and wanted to share our summer in colors beautiful and express what’s on my heart as it comes to a close and fall ushers in…….. {The pictures took longer than 5 minutes as well ~chuckle~} I hope the other 5-Minute Friday Girls will forgive me! I will be back on the 5 Minute Friday link-up with a true 5 min. write soon–they are so much fun!!

Linking up with Lisa-Jo where we try out an exercise of writing only for five minutes, releasing and not regretting whatever flies out of it’s cage in that five minutes! Pure joy! Join us?
Five Minute Friday

To All Homes Trying To Stay AFloat–A Call To Love {Ideas for The Weekend}

To all  homes trying to stay afloat, to all lonely, worn and frazzled mothers looking for a lifeline, and the floundering ones like us who search for how to do what’s really important with our time, looking for the lighthouse that guides the way home, this is a call to love, a cry for joy in pursuit of Him… 


Around here it’s Saturday morning breakfast around the table and it’s little hands grabbing cinnamon rolls and laughter.

Around here we do weekends of everyone helping out in the yard and the sun and working hard is what gets the energy flowing…






In this sacred place we watch kids in rainboots jump and splash in water puddles and it’s picnics under the shade tree….



It’s remembering weekends of horse-riding with Daddy as a little girl and Papa taking my little girls and teaching them to ride.

On this holy ground we play tag, all six of us and it’s bonfires and late nights watching movies…

Around here we do pizza night and Husband paints on canvas and it’s little girls listening as Daddy teaches art…

Here it’s church on Sunday morning, clothes laid out the night before, and a Southern homemade lunch at Granny’s, and sometimes it’s staying home to just do Sabbath rest …

Around here it’s moving past lost time and broken opportunities and it’s accepting the gift of now and the grace of the unfolding of each new day’s promise…

I pray your weekend is full of gifts and His grace…

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