Music

Song for Sienna makes me weep.

It makes me want to grab pen and paper and fly off to a word world all alone to paint scenes and dote out life.

It's playing now on Pandora.

Right in the midst of doing something else - the moment it began to bellow from the speakers - I had no choice but to sit for a sec and hash something out here.

And as it turns out, it's a fine morning for that.

The oldest....discerning that Mama has been a bit (ahem)....'frazzled' lately - entertained the younger two for a full hour this morning before allowing them all to barrel in for breakfast.

And then...sensing that Mama might need a bit more time -  made their morning meal and hustled them away for a breakfast picnic in the playroom.

Good boy.  

Thank you, God.

So I poured a bowl of grains, headed to my desk to accomplish some things before the rare bliss passed.... and out comes Brian Crain's melody of music.

And so here I sit.

Teary, wordy, relaxed.

The Enchantment and Clair de Lune do the same thing....

They almost put me in a creative trance of sorts.

It's fascinating how beautiful noise stimulates the brain...
and causes cleverness to creep out of staunchness...
and lifts up mood...
and energizes dull moments...
and creates and encourages life and light.

Yes.

Music is the art that spurs on more art.

Melancholy Morning has now made tears flow, too.

It all just touches me special and deep.
And speaks to me in places that need spoken to.
And helps me find my voice.

Music...

Notes from notes - right to my frayed, needy soul.

Telling Moments

It's hard to pick up shards of glass through streams of tears.

Ask me how I know.

Ask me how I know about the cloudy sheen that descends over eyeballs when a child drops glass on tile kitchen flooring again, and you're already in over your head in housework and homeschool.

Ask me what it feels like to crack like the cup does.

I could tell you.

Because Wednesday morning was my morning to implode.

The crashing chalice shoved me over the sanity ledge, and Mama broke.

Mothers....

You will have moments where your hands catch your head and you sob into sweaty incapable palms.

Parenting is a process that sanctifies.

It undoes the onion of pride, selfishness, egocentrism.

It reveals weaknesses and sheds light on sinful bents.

And it shows us more than anything.... that we need help. And we need a Savior.

The realization of this hit me square in the face Wednesday morning when the cup tumbled into disarray in my kitchen.


Reactions are telling.

Who we are in our knee-jerk responses.....is who we really are.

They tell us where we're really at in the process.

So when the glass goblet joined the floor, my tears and rising anger and sheer desperation - showed me much.

The next few days....(after foolishly self-loathing a bit) I prayed, and asked others to pray, and reached out to wise souls, and recalibrated. 

My days have been full of sounder, steadier, calmer moments ever since.

While in the moment it can be a startling embarrassment, seeing our own brokenness can be a blessing.

It gives us a sort of state of address.

And for that I am grateful.

If you have found yourself sweeping up the pieces while wiping away tears...

If you have discovered that your interior is shattered...

If you have seen your own self through an outburst or a breakdown or a loud reaction....

Know that you are a woman who is in metamorphosis.

And those cup cracking moments catapult us into mature reform...

If we allow them to.

I'm with you.

In those rending moments, you've got company friend.

There's a group of us here...all gathering the shards.

All heaping the fragments and handing them over to a  God who can create and refurbish the broken pieces....

 into something divinely beautiful.

May the Lord meet you in the teary moments, comfort you in the chaos, and bless your looking in and letting go.

Welcome

Fire or window.

Warmth, or scenery with a draft..... that's the decision I'm trying to make this New Year's morning.

I'm at the French cafe again. Glory to God.

Getting a moments pause while the children and the husband ready the house for a day of football, rest, planning.

This escape is very, very good. I've been holed up through the holidays mostly - so to take flight for a few hours is a wonderful way to lead off the first day of 2015.

Welcome to the starting line, friends.

I fancy a fresh start. 

The beginning of the year is like a crisp dawn - ringing in all kinds of new possibilities and presents and revelation.

Looking forward here from the starting blocks  - I want this go around to be different.

I want the tune of the next 12 months to ring clearer, calmer, more collected.

The drum I march to this year needs to have a steadier beat.

Last year's had a changing tempo.

Some of that I couldn't help, some of it....I could have.

I need to steady what I can.

And I need to hand over what I can't.

And I need to look up and out, instead of down and in all the time.

Succor me, Holy Spirit. You are where my help comes from.

I just read Matthew 23.


Jesus is speaking in these verses about the hypocritical ways of the scribes and pharisees...the religious leaders of that day. And in verse three Jesus says...

So practice and observe whatever they tell you - but not what they do. For they preach, but do not practice.

They preach but do not practice.

Parents!
Spouses!
Friends!
Siblings!
Children!

This is not simply for scribes and pharisees of 2,000 years ago...

This is for us who lead, and love, and are still lingering here on this planet today.

Oh, yes.

This year...

To practice what we preach.
To match our mouths.
To walk what we talk.
To walk what we write.
To carry out what we are saying we behold within.

Can you imagine the impact?

Because "No amount of talking penetrates as deeply as example." 

Mrs. Elizabeth Elliot said it right.

So whatever it is you have been planning or procuring for this next trip around the sun....

Whatever you're wanting to hash out, and change, and improve....

Whatever it is that has you focused and inspired....

Whoever it is that you want to influence...

Wherever it is that you want to go....

Let your life match your lips.

Kate, let-your-life-match-your-lips.

If this living what we homilize....is something that we thread through all our efforts...

Our fruit will be good.


And others will want to eat of it.

And fine nourishment....it  changes parched and famished lives around.

Yes.

The impact will be enormous.

Supply us, Lord.

So I've settled here...by the fire, away from the window, but facing it.

The best of both.

And I've punched out words and I've wrestled through some much needed admonitions here.... and I feel happy starting the year off this way.

Friend, may your fresh start be faith-filled and fruitful and fabulous. May it be rich in all things fine and holy. May it be chock-full of prophetic encounters and divine appointments. May it be a year of positive influence and joyful work and God-given purpose. May it be a year of healing and reconciliation and sweet growth. I'm grateful for you - for your company here, for your willingness to enter into the deep life with me. ENJOY what's to come. I trust that so much of it will be grand.

New Year Hugs to you all.