Deep Calls

morning came on gentle wings with blushing clouds just peeking out beyond the rim of night morning came and called me forth from torpor's dreams to come on timid feet from mourning's slumber this whisper hinting faith, is it illusion, a disillusionment; or allusion, a dis-illusion meant to call me on to hope and so I grope through mist and cold with unprotected feet toward the spectered light to look there beyond this mourning

it is the dream but never to awake caught within the wake of hope just out of touch it is the strangled cry of should and ought the not the naught a sob "to weep with convulsive catching of the breath" a breath begun but air to breathe denied "I know, I know .... it will be alright (wrapped in ) Aren't you really making too much of this?" the breath that pushed your words out ... the breath stripped of an O It is a poison then ~ a deadly mimicry comfort like a slap

in all my blogs regarding understandings of Biblical texts -- the main support for the arguements is -- my opinion . (ok and all the places: interaction with the Holy Spirit, study, reading of varient texts of scripture -- where my opinion is formed). { I am so tempted to say something like ... "yeah DUH!" here, but I won't...oh, I just did, sorry (not) } Thank you. ~ Someone whose name shall remain nameless wanted to be sure I gave a fair disclaimer -- but since I do not think more than a handfull of people will EVER read this (ok, I know that handfull and they are AWESOME people) disclaimers seem, well, silly to me ~ but anyway (she rambled) disclaimer applied.

coffee in hand ~ a view of the rain-washed world: ready... begin! And so the day starts. {sip of coffee ahhhh!: I do love morning coffee...I do, I do} I do love starting the day to fresh scrubbed blue skies, birds playing tag from tree to tree, and the air crisp/cold. I realize this not-quite-winter, not-quite-spring morning that I like season changes. They are subtle, hard to notice here in CA. But perhaps that is part of what formed our personality as a place. We don't s l o w d o w n for snow clogged walkways and roads. We do not have to take hours donning long under ware, socks, more socks, two shirts, pants lined with flannel, boots, thick chunky coats, scarves ~ all just to go get the mail. Here no need to slow down ... we dash outside, shiver, dash back in for a jacket or coat to throw over pretty much the same thing we would wear any season. So, winter might be a coat, autumn perhaps a jacket ~ but our world, like our wardrobe, doesn't really change. but... I notice sea...

They caught my eyes...the trees bedecked in white blossoms. They were lovely, lacey like a cotillion frock. I think this means they ~ the trees ~ think it is Spring. How funny! The weather thinks it is winter. OK, granted here in CA winter is a mild, subtle season, a few days where we don our coats, scarves are cozy but mainly a fashion statement. The snow is here but on the mountains at the horizon where it belongs. But for us it is winter. Not for the trees, though. For the trees: Spring; they are ready to sing a short refrain of Spring. Now, the Autumn trees ablaze in color...they stay, they linger months on end. I love Autumn. I love that the trees cling to their frocks of cranberry, plum, fire, and tangerine days and weeks and months on end. Autumn is a note held, a slowly spoken phrase. Here spring is a fleeting thought ~ flowers on the trees days, a week at the very most, usually . You might, if busy, miss them. I hope you don't.

so as I ironed a shirt for my husband this morning ( yeah ~ no, I have NEVER managed to be one of 'those' wives whose life was ordered, finished, an all-shirts-in-the-closet-are-ironed kind of person . . . sigh ) anyway - - as I ironed I began to think about The Prophets by Abraham Heschel. { that is the great thing about ironing, and such tasks of ought: your hands are conscripted so your mind is free to roam and ramble} I need to read it again. Reading Prophets is not like munching on cheese and crackers: the kind of reading you can 'plow through a plate full' while you chat with friends, enjoying every bite but hardly noticing what you have consumed. It isn't even like eating a bowl of hearty soup: full of texture and flavor, filling and warming, each bite sliding down easily, one after another. It is more like eating a steak: cutting and chewing is required for each bite. It is more like Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup pie: intensely rich, every bite an expl...

Num 21:6 And the LORD sent fiery serpents among the people and they bit the people, so that many people of Israel died. NAS Num 21:7-9 Then the LORD said to Moses, "Make a fiery (OT:8314) serpent , and set it on a standard; and it shall come about, that everyone who is bitten, when he looks at it, he shall live." 9 And Moses made a bronze serpent and set it on the standard; and it came about, that if a serpent bit any man, when he looked to the bronze serpent, he lived. NAS OT:8314 saraph (saw-rawf'); from OT:8313; burning, i.e. (figuratively) poisonous (serpent); specifically, a saraph or symbolical creature (from their copper color): KJV - fiery (serpent), seraph. (Biblesoft's New Exhaustive Strong's Numbers and Concordance with Expanded Greek-Hebrew Dictionary. Copyright (c) 1994, Biblesoft and International Bible Translators, Inc.) Isa 6:1-3 In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe fil...