too too soon

the beginning of 2014

January through April, perhaps a bit of May

winter slipped under the doors

painted pictures on the windows

while we were lost in dreams

of a life hotter, fuller in Africa

and in August that same year

we left the prairies below us as we flew away

there were visits back

2016, 2018 but always summer

never did I miss the ice

the bitter winds

or the snow, no

not at all

yet, today I find myself here

the sky dull

constant cloud cover 

dripping rain and yes,

snow,  early October

shivering deep beneath my skin

winter hardly begun

the long season of fleece

down, woolly socks and hot tea

is upon me and the thought

of hibernation tantalizes

new snow tires on the vehicle

but oh, if I had my way

I'd remain inside

until Spring's thaw

months and months from here

slow to change

the seasons are slow to change

this year, uncertain

samples of heat, retreat

as cool returns

two weeks into July

and summer has no foothold

this blood, thinned

by African years, shivers

I see the shrugs, hear

the snickers, loud

from those already awash

in sweat and complaints

leaves me wondering

will I ever be warm

will I ever be home

again

seasons upside down

I am chilly here

mornings, evenings

wrapped in fleece

as night floats in

flowers blaze

courage displayed

even as Autumn grabs hold

this still unsettles me

living upside down

when all within me insists

April means Spring

It is still warmer here in Pretoria 

than the normal temperatures in Manitoba

but having adjusted to the hot, hot, hotter of Africa 

the cool seems to drive in deep

we will soon depart to sunrises 

and the coldest months yet under Zambian skies

July will find me clad in sweats instead of drenched in sweat

as I wait for the blooming jacaranda trees 

to signal winter's end

 

mid-February morning

the sky is brilliant blue

sun looks strangely unfamiliar

there is is a sense of lightness

floating, something like relief

yet the long months of winter 

here are no where close 

to their time of ending

I will take what comfort

and ease I can and joy 

in the lengthening days

hanging out with the poets today

 

wolves can wait

wind blowing cold

wild again

low moan background 

music to my morning

tension strums nerves

no whispering

breeze this clamoring 

wail demanding answers

I have no reply

curl up small

in fleecy protection

warm the wolves

can wait another day

back at the bar with the poets

nothing predictable

January's middle when the ice 

settles deep in bones

we had snow last night

snow this morning

while the wind howls

swirls, sculpts drifts of white

and now 39 degrees fahrenheit

bright sun denying the forecasted storm

not snow, thunderstorms 

January 15 thunderstorm

with snow again to follow

diving wind chills

nothing predictable, or steady

only 100% chance

there will be weather of some sort

or another

 

warm side of the glass

on the warm side

of the glass I am

holding fast against

the wind

symphony of knocks

whistles, cries

leaves dance mid air

as branches crack

splinter on the narrow road

covered far too soon

with snow

hanging out with the poets today

 

truth in weather

morning dawned remarkable

fuchsia streaking light

soon the sky was littered with flurries

did one option better display His glory

simply because I preferred it?

would I deny the truth

of His creation, His control

as the weather shifts

in ways not to my liking?

the rain is His

as much as the sun

the brittle winds

blowing at His command

the ground is covered white

yet there is beauty here

 

joining Lisa-Jo talking about truth

 

awaiting storm

clouds slip in

soundless, quick

light muffled 

as all movement

stops, static pricks 

tense skin

thirsty ground

and hungry hearts

hold breath for the first

drop to nourish, refresh

hands, leaves, petals

reaching wide

for what sun's return denies

back at the bar, hanging with the poets

 

Snow Day

 No one can mistake that voice—

His word thundering so wondrously,

    his mighty acts staggering our understanding.

He orders the snow, ‘Blanket the earth!’

    and the rain, ‘Soak the whole countryside!’

No one can escape the weather—it’s there.

    And no one can escape from God.

Job 37:5-6 The Message

 

Shouting out praise with Deidra and the Sunday chorus

 

First snow...

As night crept in
the first snow fell lightly on this prairie land
In sleep we rested warm
Rick and I in our down covered bed
Faith safe and dry in her basement room
cats and kittens snuggled in straw
the barn a welcome shelter

One by one they appear
to taste, smell and feel
cold white wetness

I turn up the heat
wrapped in fleece
knowing that change is yet again here
rejoicing in the One Who never changes.


 

Waiting for a storm

Hot winds blowing strong
how long
before a storm moves in?

Branches almost sweeping ground
how soon
before the sound of cracking?

Safe but almost numb inside
how deep
this restless need to fly

Humidity haze honey thick
how long, how soon, how deep 
will fall the rain?


 

Talking about the weather over here...

After the long winter I was enjoying the lengthening days and the feel of sun beating warm against newly exposed skin. In a moment of surrendering my own desire for a greater good, I began to pray for rain.

Soon the forecast changed; the probability of rain was high. You could smell it in the air, yet the ground grew drier. For days, the sky darkened and the sun remained shaded by steely gray clouds that seemed as hard as their metallic color. I had relinquished the sun in exchange for rain, yet the dry days and nights remained....

come on over and read the rest of the story at Internet Cafe Devotions...

Waiting for the storm

It feels like the sky should burst
yet the sun returns again and again
this afternoon
waiting for a storm to arrive
static in the still heat
cracking as tension piles on tension
chaos just around the corner

I would perhaps
prefer the rain
the threats of large, damaging hail
to this holding on the edge

It feels like life should break wide open
yet normal returns again and again

I need not look for faces in the clouds
knowing He Is there. seen or unseen
all of this
in His mighty hands

 

I wouldn't choose rain

The rain today
that falls softly without ceasing
is not unexpected
the earth has cried for moisture
preparation for the growing
that is soon to come

While I, feeling chilled
deep in my bones
would have chosen sun
I surrender to needs
greater than my own
attempt to find joy
turn the heat up
flex and extend my aching knee
pour another hot cup

A wise young writer friend Duane Scott
wrote provoking words on Facebook today
mentioning my name among some very gifted writers

Some of my best blogger friends, always have beautiful endings... they always point things back to God. But I know they struggle. I know they have flaws.
But their God and their faith in God outshines all of those flaws and honestly, I think my perception of them becomes a bit false because of it. I forget they're human. (And I start to think they don't have 1/10th the struggles I do)

I answered back:

It is in our flaws, hung out for the world to see that His light truly shines..

He called me sweet and I replied:

we can't be so sweet that we're not real... it's the real touched by His love...

My heart and my intention is to be open, transparent
it often leaves me raw, bleeding
but I will yet praise Him
yes, I will yet praise Him.

Why are you cast down, O my inner self? And why should you moan over me and be disquieted within me? Hope in God and wait expectantly for Him, for I shall yet praise Him, Who is the help of my countenance, and my God.
Psalm 42:11 Amplified

 

Believing that are no concidences with Jennifer




and walking hand in hand with the redeemed at Emily's

Winter to summer and back

Cederburg, Wisconsin

We have passed from winter to spring to summer then back in this most unusual year of season's change.

While we were away warming our bones in temperatures way above normal in the midwestern States we missed a wet and heavy snowfall.  Perhaps I need to rephrase that, for I did not "miss" the snow at all and was happy to see none of it remaining as we pulled into the yard late yesterday afternoon.

Rain and possible snow are forecast for our weekend, which is nothing extraordinary in this northern place.

It matters little to me as my heart and thoughts are turned toward the One Who made this the holiest of weeks.

May the passion that drove Him to the cross burn within me at a fever pitch, the intensity of His love etching deeply into my spirit.

I am happy to be home even as I realize more each day that home is truly not here, but wherever He Is.


 

Mid March happy

I don't care
that it is only March
that this is Manitoba
and snows can return
full force and fierce
turning the land back to winter
in April and May

For today
I will rejoice in the thaw
the promise of Spring
the scent of melting carried
by the warm, howling winds

Lifting my hands to dance
as the sun streams
hot on my bare feet

This is all His design
as I am His
as He Is mine

mid-March happy
drunk on His love

I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine; he browses among the lilies. Song of Songs 6:3 NIV



Joining Jennifer in noticing the God-Bumps today...

 

His hand rules all

Rick met me in the living room, in the breaking light of day, as is our habit, to read to me from the Our Daily Bread devotional.  I had enjoyed my quiet time of communion with the Lord, listening for His voice and noting what He shared in my journal.

Rick always reads to me before I share my journaling with him.  God-bumps covered my flesh as he read:

“At this my heart pounds
and leaps from its place.
Listen! Listen to the roar of his voice,
to the rumbling that comes from his mouth.
He unleashes his lightning beneath the whole heaven
and sends it to the ends of the earth.
After that comes the sound of his roar;
he thunders with his majestic voice.
When his voice resounds,
he holds nothing back.
God’s voice thunders in marvelous ways;
he does great things beyond our understanding.
He says to the snow, ‘Fall on the earth,’
and to the rain shower, ‘Be a mighty downpour.’
So that everyone he has made may know his work,
he stops all people from their labor.
The animals take cover;
they remain in their dens.
The tempest comes out from its chamber,
the cold from the driving winds.
The breath of God produces ice,
and the broad waters become frozen.
He loads the clouds with moisture;
he scatters his lightning through them.
Job 37:1-11 NIV

My eyes were filled with tears, I mumbled something like "just wait till I read you what He said this morning."

Rick put down his Bible and picked up the Our Daily Bread booklet with a strange look on his face.  He couldn't seem to reconcile the devotional with the scripture passage he had just finished reading. 

"Now I see why" he said.  "I was supposed to read from Psalm 37 not Job 37!"

I could hardly wait until he finished reading the devotional so that I could share my morning "word":

It is I Who forms the snow and rains, no ice freezes without My touch. No, not mother nature or any other god. Weather bows down at My command.

Sometimes what you see as punishment is simply that I have allowed you to suffer through consequences of your own design, faulty stewardship of the land you have been given.

Remember, when the storms rage, that I Am your shelter, I Am your place of calm, safety and peace.

Let the world around you grumble and complain if they must, but remember to meet each new day with thanksgiving, as a gift from My hand, no matter what the day holds.

"Do you still think that you made a mistake?" I asked, or was God just trying to put an exclamation point on His words?

What do you think?




Join us at Jennifer's and share your God-Bumps

 

Drenching or drought?

We have been drenched with more than enough moisture.  Days of rain follow days of rain.  Farmers fall to their knees in prayer, needing to trust God for His provision, His timing, His promises.  Those who finally had opportunity to place seeds in the soil now watch them wash away as  rivers of excess run in the fields.

Yesterday on Facebook I posted about being surrounded by "wet green" and received this reply from Marcus Goodyear of The High Calling:

deeply jealous of your wet green grass since we're in a deep drought down here

So again I look to the Lord filled with the questions of a child, not understanding our strange weather patterns, wanting to ask, "Why, Father, why?" but trusting that He sees, and He knows, and He already has a plan.

This morning, fog settled thick around us.  The Lord had words with me.  When I have a moment, later in the day, I will share them here.

Every day - Five Minute Friday

I'm finally taking a minute, actually five minutes, to join in the fun with The Gypsy Mama who invites us to "Indulge in five rich, delicious minutes of pure writing" each Friday.

This week the prompt was every day.

Every day I look to the forcast as if it were something magical, as if I could plan my day, every day.

Every day this week there have been little pictures of clouds covering even smaller pictures of the sun.

Every day the winds have blown strong and the heat I've been craving has been kept away, every day.

Every day the flowers wait to find their home, planted in rich prairie soil.  Instead they sit in small plastic pots and trays, ladies in waiting, wanting to thrive.

Every day I look to the skies.  Every day evening rolls in with much left to be done.

Every day I say a prayer for the farmers who also wait, every day, to put their future in ground that is too wet to work. 

Every day I say thanks to the One Who knows; when the clouds will break, when the sun will shine, when the chill in the air will be chased away by Summer's heat;  for He knows the secrets of yesterday, today and tomorrow, the promise of every day.




Come on over to Lisa Jo's and join the fun.