Life as we know it

It's funny how time comes and goes, usually were not really in the middle of it until we look back and realize how far we've come. Last year at this time my family and I were in search for a new home, a place to expand who we are and see what we can be. It seemed that that search would never come to an end, so its strange to be sitting in that place a house we couldn't conceive one we didn't believe existed. It's not perfect bought with the knowledge that it needed help  and a lot of TLC, somehow were on a journey of recovering the former glory of a place that nine months ago was forlorn and alone. 

In that time of cold northern winter we've made ourselves the beginning of a home, for however long its to last and after the fact its funny to see; you don't notice time passing nor are you aware of things really linking into a chain of completion. You  move from one task to the next and looking back its a wonderious mural of hard work intense moments and pulling together, a lot of elbow grease piped into a community goal that becomes a monument of beauty. 

I was going through the hallway just opposit my bedroom the other day when the thought struck me, how easily I have become accustom to seeing these walls, when another set was so fimaliliarly imprinted on my mind, it seemed impossible to forget. I wondered who walked those halls now that saw so many years of a family going through life quite unlike many others. Who watched the weak sun fight through newly sprouted trees for domination of a postage stamp yard. Was there any eyes who could watch and wonder at the sound of the rain muddying the path from the back door to the basement bulkhead doors ? Did any eyes witness the winter into spring which for so long was my only source of inspiration my only display of Gods handiwork on a daily basis. I would not rather be within those walls nor stuck in that teensy yard but the memory must possess a sense of romantic sentamentality or else I do myself a wrong.

How should I compare the new beauty that meets my eyes as each morning I rise to a yard teeming with winged life even now the chirping of birds sings me a tune that lasts from before sunrise to the setting. Park like is this little haven where my dreams of a true garden are already sprouting and unfolding with each day the sun brings her soft warmth to this patch. 

And I never cease in my wonder at the beauty god has made us to enjoy. Yet here I am and I hardly know what brought all this about. In life you never know where your choices will lead you, all a body can do is make the best choice one can and trust in faith that the Father will do the rest. And still we push foward and next year may look completely different than this moment of time, time is such a marvel isn't it ? I hate how fast it goes, but still we all ride this river. Happily moved my family and I are settling for a time in a place that I believe is where we are supposed to be. Where dear reader has the ever flowing time placed you ? I'd love to know. I keep reminding myself as I watch the days fly away into the past to cherish every moment for its a rarity that shall not come the same way twice. 

Snow days and new places

It started falling softly and sweetly, dusting the earth with white, and in increasing fury the white fluf became a mass of wind and and a flood of flakes fell one upon the other is successive order far too quickly to count. 

           A new back yard 

It's a new landscape that meets my eyes, a new ground of possibilities, I stop and gaze in wonder at the beauty still so new. The first snowfall of any significance in a new home, surrounded by new walls and new roads. How odd when only 2short months ago I was surrounded by the familiar haunts, the yard of so many years where I had exhausted every subject to take pictures of. Strange when you can clearly see a place more accurately than where you find yourself now. I can imagine the yard, slopping to the right covered in snow, the paths blanketed equally the one large tree in the backyard covered with a dusting of powder from the direction of the wind, the spot where half the tree fell away from the massive trunk leaving an empty space wherein the sky stretches grey and dark. Not very pretty not very special except for feet that have tread the paths afforded by this place, the paths into the woods and following the railroad tracks only taken in my memory these days. Nostalgia has a way of hitting you when you leave a place you've occupied for so long. 

These days I've found myself saying how odd or very strange to myself when I seem to feel an emotion I'm not accustomed to, an emotion that is directly corolated with a place I so longed to leave. The human heart has stores yet undiscovered. 

It's nice to be cozy in a house, especially on days like today, when the wind whips wild and moans its low breath at anything that moves. What wild beauties yet not found by my eyes I can't wait to search out, the possibilities of a new place are endless, and exciting. Today I may be cooped up beside a heater forced to rove the wild tangles of my imagination, but soon, there won't be a place in this yard I'm not well aquatinted  with. Goodbyes are long but introductions are tedious, one place gone forever a face looking toward to newness undiscovered, for now ill manage to content myself with imagining what those discoveries might be.

What might you be doing on a day of the snows dear reader ? 

A second chance is heavens heart

The road we set out on can be fresh and new,
the new paths we decide to take in this new set of days.
The days don't have to be dark or painful.

We'll all have resolutions, ways to start over plans made in hopes of keeping.
Were wonderfully good at keeping that one little ember of hope alive in our hearts, no matter how many times we've failed theirs still that something in us that keeps us on. We posses a funny measure of fortitude and we never show that as much as at the beginning of the year. But do any of us truly have a plan that will make the days ahead move smoothly, no matter what comes ? That would be impossible, still further do we have a deep promise that what we've planned will come about ? I doubt in that natural. I write a lot on this blog about God, about a loving father who has made ways for us where we see mountains and brier hedges, impassible places made for us to concur.
He through His son and through His word has given us a promise for a good life.

"I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly" john 10:10 

I especially love the picture of the fathers love and care in Deuteronomy 32: 10-14
I have taken the liberty to change the them's to you's 

  Out in an empty, windswept wasteland you were found.
  The father threw His arms around you lavishing attention on you 
 guarding you as the apple of His eye.
    He is like an eagle hovering over its nest, overshadowing its young,
  Then spreads its wings, lifting them into the air teaching you to fly.
    God alone leads you, there is no one else in sight, He lifts you high...

The remaining verse tells of how he provides the best for you, the choicest of blessings he gives to      you his own special possession. I encourage you at the start of this year remind yourself this is where your help comes from, if your life has been surrendered to Christ, therein lies your hope for fulfilment of every dream for this year, born and yet unborn.
He's a good father and all it takes is trust in Him in everything to live a peaceable life.
I'll be keeping this in mind for this year, I hope you do too.

I pray that God will lead you to peaceable habitations and quiet resting places, this year and that if trouble does arise he will be your tower of safety. I pray that He will train your hands to war against every thing that tries to get in the way of His good plan for your life, so that you will be a fierce follower of Him living free in Him.
Theres good things ahead dearest reader, so keep your chin up, and have a blessed new year.

Innocent Wonder

How do you describe the loss of something that you have always had ?
Something that's not a person or even a thing.
Is it Grief ?
Is the loss of something that can't be held, something that isn't tangible truly a loss, or are there things in the world that can't be explained, things that have more beauty and more value than fine gold.

I have seen the loss of a certain heart condition, a loss of the innocent wonder of the world.
Cynical attitudes are hazardous to wonder, but when you begin on that road there are no poison roadsigns that warn of the destructive way you are on. Its something that only experience may teach.
We all begin clean, I'll use that word because its so pictures of what Innocent means. I don't mean clean of sins or even bad deeds, I mean in our psyche we are clean. There are no doubts to crowd the lovely, no ugly insecurities to chain our winged hearts down.
We are shinny vessels of pure hope, faith and wonder, our eyes see the world with as UN tainted a look as we can imagine.
Children easily believe, while its hard for the adult to be as free with there trust, due to hurts and other things that I haven't time to boggle myself writing now.
I have had my fair share of snarky cynicism, and snide outlooks of a variety of things. And I have noticed a great loss when I travel that path. The world seems less magical, there is less sparkle to the stars, and things become dull, boring and dry. In effect, my heart suffers it becomes as stone.
 A grave danger it is indeed. For when my hearts hard, how may I run to my Father who has promised to guide and protect me ?
Our father created each of us with a certain amount of wonder, my dears, lets be wary of clogging our eyes with the dust of life, with the little hurts sent your way, and the judgements we all are guilty of proclaiming.
 Let our hearts be innocent once more, less prone to be hard, but all mushy and soft as we can be,
Lets throw aside our adulthood, and be children in our hearts once more.

TAGs for today

1. What would you do on a rainy (but not stormy) day?
I would probably be out of doors in it, or beside a window listening to the patter of rain. 
A rainy day is particularly one of my favorite things. Somehow it never gets less enthralling. 
And if I'm not admiring the weather or thinking of how I could capture such beauty, I probably would also be seated with a book or old movie.  

2. Is there any particular music/song that ever gives you chills from the beauty or inspiration of it? 
Classical music does this to me, most recently it's a classical piece by Brian Crain, the songs called song for sienna, and the piece was piano cello.


3. Is there anything you feel God has taught you over the past year?
To trust him ever more, the more I yield to Him the easier life becomes.


4. What comes to mind when I say the color red? (this is really random because I forgot include a 4th question originally)
Luxurious velvet, in hues of red, like the petal of a red red rose, blood, blood that is taken, blood that is given, like a sacrifice. Anger, red to me is spicy or flavorful, it's vibrant it's impassioned and vibrant and not ever apathetic.  Beautiful, as seen in a red sky pierced with the color of life, spilt across the heavens.
5. Favorite sidekick/best friend character from literature?
Oh dear, every book I've ever read draws a blank, I hate when that happens. 

6. Favorite Biblical name?
This is such a weird question, off the top of my head, Elijah, because it's meaning, 
my God is YAHWEH.
7. What would you do if you found you had a completely empty day ahead?
Write, or draw, or read a book, I've been known to devour a book in a day, with a cup of tea, what better conditions are there for a good read ? I'm always catching up on my creative scenes, making jewelry or sewing something. I love making fairies so all of that would be strewn out and about and I would successfully overwhelm myself on my off day. :))) I speak from experience, can you tell ?

8. What is your favorite book of the Bible?
That's a hard one, i like almost all of them, i love psalms for when I'm discouraged, but certain verses from Isaiah are amazing, then there's the whole new testament which is pretty much the most encouraging books for when you need it. i don't really have a favorite.  

9. Do prefer dresses or skirts?
dresses, definitely dresses, there easy and quick and the right one can look classic and chic. also classy.  
10. What book are you reading at the moment?
{Spiritually} a book called lioness arising by Lisa Bevere. 
{fun} the little princess, by Frances Hodgson Burnett 
{literary study} The sun also rises, by Hemingway


11. If you could own a book store what would the dominating book type be, and what would be its name? (Don't think to hard about it :))
This is like my dream, to own a book store, sigh, lovely thought. 
Um fiction, literature you know classical and romantic and the sort. I love classics. 
It would simply be called, PORTALS because books are like portals that take you to another place and time, almost by magic.

 I'd love for you to answer the questions!! Please let me know if you do, I know I would enjoy reading them! (you could even answer them in the comments if you want!)

Thanks miss Evelyn  for these fun inspired questions, I thoroughly enjoyed answering.
Visit missies blog tis quite lovely.

Extraordinary Beauties

via

Having finely gotten a snippet of time out of busy life to actually type a post here, its almost strange fingering the keys, that same old opening of a vein. looking inward. I suppose that's what I have grown to love about blogging, its more for my own growth than anyone Else's, and for personal clarification.
Its funny now when I look back and remember how terrified I was to post something personal. Now I cant imagine these words not coming from the heart.

Life can be so monotonous,
get up & > prepare for day  > lunches  > coffee  >  breakfast  >
Work in one way or another, at home or out in the big bad world > evening meal often times rushed > try and relax or catch up on trivial details  > bed > Sleep or not. Repeat.
Every part of life is mostly rote. Doing the same thing you did yesterday and the same thing you will do tomorrow, that's just how it is. Sometimes I think how tragic it all is that every person on this planet does in part nearly the same. Were all on separate journeys,  following thorough the lines of destiny, but on that journey we do in part a lot of repeating. I believe that that destiny was created by Loving heavenly father who personally crafted a good life for every human alive. But that doesn't change the
every day living that mostly doesn't change. I was a bit younger when I realized this, we repeat the same 12 months and the same 7 days in a week, we eat mostly the same thing and do normally the same things. I don't know why but realising that life wasn't some amazing quest like in fantasy stories hit me hard. This is life. It looked a little bleak.
 But as I have grown physically and spiritually. I see now that God uses the little things that in the natural can be monotonous to be the most amazing things.

via

Every day I open my eyes and see, it has been that way since as long as I can remember. I'm privileged to gaze at the same sky, that same sun, admire the same trees in that same yard. hear that same bird call.
I see the same family that same face in the mirror staring back at me. And yet every time I hear a bird call it enthrals me like its new to my ears, and when the light catches the trees and bathes them in gold I forget everything but that beauty, no matter how many times I have see it done. Do you see what I mean ? I am greeted by the same faces I so long ago have memorised  and yet every day the are newly imprinted on my mind, there characters and the mutual growing and heart aches that humans share in. there the same family but every day they are new to me. Life around me, like time moves but there are things that remain and the ritual of life is one of them. no matter how we place it no matter where we are or who we are with we will do in part something of the same thing. but theres all these other spattering's of colour that if we are too absorbed in the boring we miss, life's still an adventure, a mystery perhaps theres not dragons at every page and we may not be the most amazing heros. but if you look you will see the exciting life blends in to the usual and if not looked for can be drowned by the screams of normalcy. We live our lives working toward that elusive and none existent someday. In hopes of life being better.  All the time growing a bit tarnished by the world, by dashed hopes and unrealised dreams.  If we ever find the someday, (a bit  like finding the fountain of youth or Shangri -La) We may not recognise who we have become. Its the little things that we do the same every day that can make life well, boring. As humans we more often than not feel disquieted and unhappy with life. I will be honest and say I have been there all too often. its this attitude of disquietude that makes us unable to see the mystery around every corner. the smoke screen over every heart, the questions that need answers in others eyes. The unstudied flower petal, crashing waves in your ears. The piece of art that has not yet been discovered, those words that haven reached your eyes, the voices of people you love. Adventure is everywhere. you just have to be patient and you will find it. Patience is a virtue and the hardest of the virtues to cultivate. we live in a fast world, that advocates speed over the long way around. We want to be where we think the party is not knowing all the steps it took us to get there. I have entrusted my life to my Heavenly Father. I believe he holds my destiny and has a future thats exceedingly abundantly above all I can imagine. It doesn't change the everyday rote, but it makes a restful heart knowing that everything else woven into my human existence is going to be His plan and it will be wonderful. Its little things, I keep saying it and will continue to for ever,
 its small extraordinary beauties disguised as ordinary things that colour our stories. we just have to see them. So from now on I shall endeavour to post here about what I discover. I would love to know your simple beautiful adventuresome lives. Leave a comment and tell me about what extraordinary beauties surround you that are disguised as ordinary.

From my window.

photo credit

It's a bit over cast today, but I can hear a sweet melody from the birdies perched  at my window.
It's a sound that I welcome with reverence. My whole life I have loved nature, but as I have grown I seem to appreciate it all the more. As I watch these two little grey and yellow fellows search out for some obscure object in the gutter right out my window, I try and be still as I can. In hopes that this rare moment will somehow be prolonged if I don't breath. I believe I shall name them, Finy and Oliver. The wind has a slight chill, and smells of rain, I know In a little wile I will be listening to the sound of rain patter. I am fortunate to have a great big window to the right of my desk. Where as an artist or when I'm stuck for some word that my mind knows but can't remember I look out to nature and get refreshed.
I'm a bit of a romantic, so I have a special ability to overlook the house right smack dab across the street. The one that's in desperate need of a paint job. The one that when I'm in a more human mood, sticks out against the trees like a big khaki thumb. But today is not that day.
From my window I see only trees, lush green fields and nature at its best. With spring here the trees are in a bright green bloom, there tiny leaves not yet formed. Yet I love this season for that reason, the soft colors that are mere suggestions. I always find myself wishing I could stop and stay in a perpetual spring. The mountains are flowering, but this year in more of a pink, than green. I thought that odd but have been too caught up in the soft blush to ask why. When a gift is given you just say thanks. And that's what I have been doing. All this month, a whisper of thanks has been constant on my lips to the Father who so lovingly created all this. For us. A masterpiece that is so in need to be enjoyed. I certainly have tried to enjoy it. Many rambled through the woods have blessed me to see the sudden change that happens. In one week new life springs from some hidden  shadow, into the light.
Like the dancers who wait  behind the stage curtain until there number is to be performed, spring was just waiting. And I can only speak for myself, but  it has a very happy audience member. I have marveled at the tiny curled sprouts of ferns. And wild flowers that seem to grow in the strangest places.  Perhaps its because of a book I'm not much interested in, or perhaps it's the strange feeling I get every spring that has propelled me out of doors. Into nature where I feel at home.
Perhaps later I shall get out my paints and try and capture the fleeting season. But for now I'm content to draw these thoughts and feelings in words here, and capture the images of spring in my mind where they will go on for an infinity. I hope your all having a lovely spring.
I know myself and Finy and Oliver  are enjoying it immensely. Now if I only knew what they were searching for in that gutter.
Drop me a note if you have time and let me know what your favorite part of spring is. Please do.

An Essay On Writing

The plot of a story is huge, on it hangs the entire body of a story, it forms a outline of the idea in our head and keeps it straight, from it comes the story that we wish to convey.  But i have heard that a lot of writers don't concern them selves with the how and the whys and the when. they just write. I would have to say that that is more my idea of writing, yes I have some idea about what the story will consist of but I don't like the idea of getting bogged down with all the facts in my head before I write them. also I don't like the idea of knowing all the facts of my characters, when I don't detail there lives in full I seem to understand them better. I have no idea if that makes a ounce of sense. Now every writers style differentiates, this I know full well. Often I wish my style was a bit different more like the novelist greats of old. But I am who I am and perhaps with more practise I shall learn and grow. I'm not completely sure if this is the conventional way of writing,  but I quite like idea of ones characters growing on there own, I like to get to know them as I type rather than knowing all about them. It maintains an element of surprise for me, that I hope will cross over into the finished work. I have found that I get bogged down with facts and worries about being "correct" rather than being brave enough to just write. I have created a story board, a detailed plot with an outline for each chapter, with the things I wanted to into the beginning middle and end. and oddly enough when this (should) help me remain uncluttered in my mind it just makes things worse.

photos via pinterest. 

I sit at my desk pen in hand (yes I am still without my own writing computer, but if Jane Austen could do it than so can I) and the words just don't come, when I plan all the scenes in my head I have a hard time actually writing them, because I get worried about the rules.what comes first when do I include this or that, what would a reader say of this. All too many questions that cram my brain leaving no room for the story. Now this is different, when I have a clear scene come to me, and there nothing that's gonna get in the way of it coming out. Save that of my fear of breaking the rules, and not continuing the story in one linear line. so I store that scene in the back of my brain,
but often forget it, or it loses its allure. I remember reading somewhere that some writers would write the scenes or seeing pictures as   C S Lewis described it,  as they come and compile these works after the novel is completed.
Now I'm not sure how hard this is going to be, it seems a daunting odyssey to undergo, but if it make the words easier to come than what choice do I have. I suppose my point in writing this long most likely boring essay, it so say that rules are important, as is a plot and idea of the novel which you want to write. But if it gets too full of restriction,  a person is more likely to give up un despair rather than be chained to there plot with the thinking that it must be this way. At least I do. In short my point is leave some wiggle room so to speak, in your plot or story outline. and if you have a scene come to you that you just must write, even if that scene in miles down the road in your plot, don't fret to write it as it comes. I have to add that this is so freeing to me, I have learned that life inspires us in more ways than one, and trudging through a story in a linear line, wouldn't be difficult if you were locked away in a study for the remainder of that stories creation. But if you happen to live in the world, and not like a hermit. Than things, people, movies, songs all could inspire you to write a scene not yet in your plot, or farther on your complete list. Don' be afraid to creatively expand in more ways than just a straight line.
It has surely helped me.  
How do you dearest reader, write ? I would love to know your thoughts of the above.

Copyright 2012 Rachel Hope.  all rights reserved use of this material without written permission by the author is strictly prohibited. 

Little Notes

Dear Life why can you get so far away from me, I often find myself wondering what you are all about.
Dear Work and home life, you can be so demanding, there seems to be no time to slip in the creative desires that seem to over come me sometimes. Now I am most certainly not complaining, I do not at all dislike working with my family. And God blessed me with a mind that is apt to be inspired by the most random of things. But sometimes, after a long week, I wish there was more time for all of us please ?

Dear sun Thank you for the beautiful sunset that followed us home today, I love the way the your little shoots of light danced across the woods and through the leaves lighting tiny paths of gold like a treasure hunt that calls to my heart. Thank you for showing up at all today, after a long week of rain.

Now Mr rain don't misunderstand me, I love the sun shower you gave us today that washed the earthy green and made everything feel new. Its just I prefer that kind of rain, and not the long stormy trials that last for days. Dear tall grass, please don't let your self get cut, I love watching you sway and dance in the breeze. Oh and breeze please stay sweet and warm, its summer soon you know.

 Dear stories, please please stay in my head long enough for me to write you, and characters I implore you co operate with me. Please ! I wont be too dramatic, here but don't leave me hanging, I promise to try and meet with you again okay ?
Dear fellow blogger I hope you enjoyed your week.