Life Saver

For years I kept afloat by my own
buoyancy:

A desperate tread of water
and
the dismissal of
things I couldn't think
about.

Keep busy I think
and I do. Fears are buried.

The storm picks up pace
and my splashing isn't
sufficient and I feel I might
drown. Water stings and my
eyes dip below and I
panic.

And now the choice must be made:
sink or swim and I choose swim.

I reach out and grasp the Holy One
whose hand is a constant stretch
and He breathes calm into me
and He rescues my drowned hope.

I gulp fresh air and rest in stable lifeboat
which is He and I feel drained and
haggard breath fills silence.
Air is honey and I call out
to the only one who gives true buoyancy.

God is ever faithful, my Savior.

"Oh Lord, My God, I will give you thanks forever." Ps. 30:12b

Joining Emily for Imperfect Prose...

Up And Riding

So I've pretty much decided that in order to be cool, you need to dress like a surfer. Especially after seeing this site. (www.upandriding.com)

Seriously, do they have this in my size?



Or this hat?! Why don't they make adult clothes look like this? Actually, my head is so small, I could probably wear this.



I have a small obsession with birds. Not real ones. I have a friend who used to get attacked by birds while running and then when she had a bird as a pet, he liked everyone in the family except her and would peck at her! Peck, peck, peck! Plus, I still have eerie dreams about the kind of mind it takes to write something like Alfred Hitchcock's THE BIRDS. Actually, did you know that Hitchcock didn't write it? He directed it. Daphne du Maurier wrote it. She must have been a conflicted woman. This little bit of trivia does nothing to explain my slight obsession. But, still, I'm obsessed all the same.

And I've decided that it's a good thing we don't have a boy, or he'd be wearing this:



And it's just not that subtle, you know? We don't want the whole world to know that we're ninjas.

Apparently, if you sign up now, you can get a 30% off coupon in time for some Christmas shopping. AND, free shipping right now on all orders with the code: FREESHIP. I'm totally going to bookmark this site....and maybe see if I can squish into that hat!

Mud Pies Forever

Mud Pies call to me

And there I sit, again.

I am six and the mud oozes

And drips

and cakes

and clumps

And it’s not half as messy as

My smile. I am a top-notch chef,

A connoisseur of simple happiness

And I bake the mud right out of

The pastry until it’s way past time

To go in and I’ve made hundreds—

No, thousands of sloppy pies.

The taste of Imagination

is pure deliciousness

And my palate is quenched like the

Time I sat next to my lonely friend

Instead of keeping with the crowd.

I wipe mud on my pants and begin again.

The mud is mine, And I am it.

***

And the reverie is over and

Now I have a girl of six

And she drips,

She cakes,

And she clumps mud

And her smile is messy, too.

She is a top-notch chef,

A connoisseur of simple happiness

And she invites me to stay long

and bake hundreds—

No, thousands of pies and I

Agree and before I know it,

I am her playmate and my palate is quenched

Because I choose it to be, like the

Times I sit with my girls to play together,

instead of doing my grown-up thing,

to sugar-coat and entertain our

imaginations.

We wipe mud on

our pants, and smile. The mud is ours,

and we are it.

Linking with Emily today....

I SO want to win this bike!

Madsen is giving away one of these. Just click on the link (picture), or visit madsencycles.com to find out how you can win. But if you do win, you'll have to let me ride in the back....as a sort of "commission". :o)

I'll keep you Confany

"I'll keep you confany (company)." spoke the younger to the older with creased forehead the night the oldest girl had to sleep on the hallway floor beside the bathroom the same day she turned 7 and consumed way too many treats of delicious nature and sweet celebration. And then gentle-eyed sister sidled up beside her and made camp for the night.

A moment is made and a bond is given glue.

And mom turns around corner and peeks at little hands pulling back hair with purpose, both bent over porcelain, and her mama eyes well up at the blessed offering, shown by the small, but big, gesture. And later again in the softest of whispers, when little heads go down, "It's okay, you can take my pillow," noses almost touching. Beloved spot for pretty little head and downy hair--is sacrificed for the first night in 3 years.

And mom stands quiet, barely breathing as words are exchanged in the still air of harmony. A sweet fragrance of words fill the space: I'm so glad I have you. And me, too. So glad I have you and Reesie. Because if I didn't, I would be lonely. Yeah, because mom and dad would be busy sometimes. Yeah--hundreds and hundreds of times busy. Hundreds and hundreds of times busy. So glad I have you. Lonely.

And mom is discovered before eyes close shut.

I prayed for her tonight, Mom.

Oh, really? What did you say?

I said, "Dear Jesus, thank you for Liv...." And then I forgot what else....Mouth frowns.

But the comforted remembers. The comforted cannot forget.

"She asked Jesus to make me feel better by the morning!"

Lullaby tunes of late nights past are hummed and sung to the older from the younger. And she is nourished by the giving of another...Baby mine, dry your eyes, lay your head close to my heart.....Please keep singing till I fall asleep, kay?

M'kay.

Please join Emily as she shares beautiful prose...