Finding The Fair Maiden
Friday, December 2, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
They Say
They say that I can be healed... that Jesus is a healer. I've heard.
I've prayed. I've begged. I've sought and pleaded. Years have gone by. Hands have been laid. Tears have been poured. Forgiveness given. Demons driven. The pain still remains, nawing away at me.
They say to have hope because He has done it and He can... that Jesus is a healer. I know, I've read.
Blind men received sight. Little ones raised from the dead. Bodies broken received wholeness (shalom).
They say it can happen, it will... that Jesus is a healer. I hear you.
But do I let myself hope again? Do I let myself be open to the possibility of the disappointment of it not happening once more? Do I let my arms fall open and trust that He is who He says He is.
He is.
They say to come tonight and they will pray with me once more. Lay hands on me and hope in healing waters flow from the hands of the one who placed the stars in the sky... and I want it to be so... so badly.
So badly my body longs to be the one that I see when I close my eyes and seek. The one with long flowing hair, running through wide open fields of wheat... free. Because when I run I am free.
Do I listen to what they say? Do I? Do I place another block of hope upon the heaps of the crushed, and pray that this time it cracks open and births the butterfly free? Do I?
What choice do I have? All I have is risk... that's all life is. I can open and soften and risk the breaking or I can stay closed and shrivel and refuse and then... what? What life can come if the legs refuse to open to the birth? What wings can flutter if the case refuses to crack?
They say to come and hope...again. Again... I will come.
I've prayed. I've begged. I've sought and pleaded. Years have gone by. Hands have been laid. Tears have been poured. Forgiveness given. Demons driven. The pain still remains, nawing away at me.
They say to have hope because He has done it and He can... that Jesus is a healer. I know, I've read.
Blind men received sight. Little ones raised from the dead. Bodies broken received wholeness (shalom).
They say it can happen, it will... that Jesus is a healer. I hear you.
But do I let myself hope again? Do I let myself be open to the possibility of the disappointment of it not happening once more? Do I let my arms fall open and trust that He is who He says He is.
He is.
They say to come tonight and they will pray with me once more. Lay hands on me and hope in healing waters flow from the hands of the one who placed the stars in the sky... and I want it to be so... so badly.
So badly my body longs to be the one that I see when I close my eyes and seek. The one with long flowing hair, running through wide open fields of wheat... free. Because when I run I am free.
Do I listen to what they say? Do I? Do I place another block of hope upon the heaps of the crushed, and pray that this time it cracks open and births the butterfly free? Do I?
What choice do I have? All I have is risk... that's all life is. I can open and soften and risk the breaking or I can stay closed and shrivel and refuse and then... what? What life can come if the legs refuse to open to the birth? What wings can flutter if the case refuses to crack?
They say to come and hope...again. Again... I will come.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Buttons

I just learned how to make my own buttons. Here are links to the 2 tutorials I used to do it.
Oikology
Blogging with Amy
p.s. The picnik photo site is AMAZING!
Thanks
Thank you Lord for

- little girls that want to know the world around them so intimately that they stick it up their nose
- doctors that know how to get the world out of said noses
- sand and waves crashing against our bodies as we build castles and fill buckets
- sunshine
- tomatoes ripe on the vine
- discovering a hidden gem in the basement at my work and getting to bring it home for only $7.50
- a husband that has lunch ready when I get home from work
- finally making another sale
- getting to try something new... voice-overs
- a husband with a sense of humor
- birthday parties for grandma

Monday, July 18, 2011
MMMMMMonday
What does that mean? Eating things as close to nature as possible, with no processed foods, organic when possible (which isn't always possible on our budget), and making things ourselves. So, I thought it'd be fun to start documenting our foodage once a week.
Lunch: Taco Salad
Strawberry Peach Salsa
- 1 peach, peeled, chopped
- 5-6 strawberries, chopped
- 1/2 of lime, juiced
- handful of fresh cilantro, finely chopped
- salt and pepper to taste
Mix all together.
Homemade Taco Meat (I make everything to taste, so none of my measurements are exact.)
- 1 lb. ground beef (organic or lowest fat is best)
- 1 onion diced
- 1 garlic clove, finely diced
- 1/2 can tomato paste (the smallest size can)
- 1 tsp-2 tsp ground cumin (this is the key to getting the taco seasoning packet taste)
- 1 tsp - 2 tsp chili powder
- salt and pepper to taste
Sautee onions in a little bit of butter in a cast iron skillet (or anything that's not teflon). Once they are see-through, add the meat and brown. Drain off any excess fat (if you're not using organic meat, pesticides, antibiotics, etc are most concentrated in the fat, so draining it off will help). Once brown add all the other ingredients.
We served our taco salad on a bed of orgainic mixed greens (we try to buy at least the dirty dozen organic) with the taco meat, cheddar cheese, diced avocado, salsa and plain yogurt (I really like the plain greek yogurt best, but it doesn't always fit into our budget... my next project is trying to make homemade yogurt), and topped with some Annie's organic Papaya Poppyseed dressing. We usually use a regular tomato based homemade salsa, no dressing and we add some black beans, but I thought this would be nice for a change.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Thanks
God... thank you for---
- rolls of thunder
- heat that reminds me summer is near
- watching the tenderness in my son's heart as he says good-bye to his best friend for the last time
- bubble gum ice cream cheeks and chins
- gold finches stopping for a visit
- our first ever peach blossoms
- getting my fingers dirty

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