EverythingElseThrownIn: a place to voice your thoughts

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

a place to voice your thoughts

You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody.
II Corinthians 3:2 NIV

One of the many blessings associated with a blog is having the privilege of hearing from friends like you. I listen to you and learn from you. Please feel free to share your thoughts here: everythingelsethrownin@gmail.com. I love hearing from you.

catherine marshall

"Come, Lord Jesus, and abide in my heart. How grateful I am to realize that the answer to my prayer does not depend on me at all. As I quietly abide in You and let Your life flow into me, what freedom it is to know that the Father does not see my threadbare patience or insufficient trust, rather only Your patience, Lord, and Your confidence that the Father has everything in hand. In Your faith I thank You right now for a more glorious answer to my prayer than I can imagine. Amen."

Catherine Marshall was a mentor for me when I was a young mother raising three sons and didn't get out of the house much. How I love all of her writings. She is so real.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

"How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth
and breadth and height
My soul can reach,
when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being
and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need,
by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely,
as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely,
as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs,
and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, ---
I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! ---
and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death."
One of my all-time favorite poems. I had to memorize it in high school and I've loved it ever since.

Memories and Old Tin Roofs

Guess some of the memories are like the rain that drips down the narrow valleys of rust and metal, not stopping by for a long visit, just rolling by to let us know they are still in the vicinity. Some of those droplets begged to be heard, to be revisited; some pound on the door of our hearts with the deliberate intention of waking us from a sound sleep, of forcing us to deal with them and the ruts they create coming so forcefully off the roof with no gutter to stop them from their downward descent.
And then there are those that slowly and quietly slip off the roof splashing ever so softly into rain barrels collecting there to be used at a later moment for quenching the nostalgia of our hearts. Thank you Lord for quiet times to reflect on layers of misty watercolor memories that encircle us like a rainbow.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

a place to voice your thoughts

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