Today a little poem I wrote is featured at my friend Lydia’s blog as part of her wonderful advent series. Check it out here.
That’s what nine photos are worth, right?
This is so not the post I need to write — the one that follows up on the disease that lasted for months, or the one about how freelancing is going, or anything else that involves actual writing — but it’s the one that will break the silence and hopefully make it easier for me to get back to this again.
With real (hopefully awesome) pictures.
Because after months and months of research, waiting and saving, we invested in a new camera. It came the day after Thanksgiving despite Amazon’s guarantee (bummer), but we were still able to catch a few shots in and around Spokane and of friends and family after the holiday. Here are some of my favorites (whether artistically or subject-wise):
Eric and Kieran.
Us with little (I mean younger) brother and his wife.
My gorgeous mama.
One of my best friends from high school.
Neon bowling shoes.
A little MJ at the alley.
Old dog feet.
Eric and Kieran take two.
Thanks for stopping by. I’m hoping to be back again quite soon!
“If I waited for perfection, I would never write a word.” — Margaret Atwood
When your soul has simply trusted Jesus, have you ever been confounded?
Have you not up till now found your Lord to be a compassionate and generous friend to you, and has not simple faith in Him given you all the peace your spirit could desire? Can you so much as dream of a better friend than he has been to you? …
This is the joy we have today that we are saved in Him; and if this joy be satisfying, wherefore should we think of changing? Who barters gold for dross?
We will not forswear the sun till we find a better light, nor leave our Lord until a brighter lover shall appear; and, since this can never be, we will hold Him with a grasp immortal, and bind His name as a seal upon our arm.
— Charles Haddon Spurgeon, from Morning and Evening
We’re halfway through week 12 of my sickness. (Hasn’t it even been longer?) Other than doing an actual test for it, my doctors are convinced I had whooping cough. The worst is over, but I’m still on a couple medications to help my breathing and lung strength. Another thing to help: 30-minute walks. I prescribed them to myself, and I’ve been pretty successful with them this week. Today’s turned into more like 50, because the first day of rain brought such a new way of looking at things.
The dry weather turning cool has been good for giving the leaf colors plenty of time to process. But today they started their decomposition on my sidewalks, gilded with wetness. Mounds of them were in the street and people’s carefully tended summer lawns were covered in them.
I saw a man emptying large pots of some shrubby flowering plants. One day of rain in Portland is usually not enough to throw in the towel on your plants. But since it’s nearly mid-October, we know the jig is up — the rain has come, and it’s probably not going anywhere till June.
So, the rain — it’ll stay. And with it the darkness in the morning that I haven’t noticed till now that the sun is covered up with grey. Darker mornings and it will be even harder to get up, already with my post-hydrocodone coma and cozy bed daze and husband already up and showered. I’ve been easy on myself with sleep the last few months. And maybe that shouldn’t change just yet. (Except on days like today, when I worked late on a Friday because of the late start I gave myself. Oh, and probably because of the 50-minute walk I took in the rain.)