Reading... C. S. Lewis.  Just finished Surprised by Joy and it was so good, absolutely delightful.  And I'm currently in Out of the Silent Planet, which is quite different but wonderful as well.  (of course, I mean it's C. S. Lewis!)

I've been planning some sewing projects, drinking lots of earl grey, just watched BBC's Wives and Daughters, and managed some long neglected mending.  The sun is setting later and rising early, in fact it's light out now when I drive to work.  I'll be back at the greenhouse in three weeks and I can hardly wait.

Time has sped by so quickly, it's been over six months now since getting back from camp and my birthday, and while so much has happened and changed it also feels like there's no way we could already be most of the way through February.  It's strange.  And full.  And empty.  And slow.  And much too fast.

 There's been a lot of white lately; snow, yarn, paper, plates, pages, sky... my skin.  But the light is returning, and the temperatures rising, and I think that does something for creative juices.  Last year I was writing like a mad lady and this year it seems to be an art explosion.  It's lovely.

 I don't know if snow glitters anywhere else like it does here.  Since where I live is technically a desert (!) the snow isn't wet and pack-able, instead it's dry and crystal-ly.  Like glitter or sand.   It blows around on the roads, sparkles when the sun shines through it, and coats the trees.

There's so much chaos inside me with applying for scholarships and trying to not wonder about what I'm doing this summer, all while still wondering and praying and doing a smashing job at acting like a sea-saw.  The peace thing isn't easy to maintain.

But then there's the bits of beauty that God slips in, the little wake-up of my worries aren't that important, I will get through, it will be good.  And the beauty is free and present and ready to be absorbed, ready to heal.  Like this fantastic imprint left in the snow as I was walking into the library last week.  Life is still beautiful.  The future irrelevant.

in appreciation of tea

dear God, today
I thank you
for making
tea.

tea,yes,tea

through tea I know, I can feel, quite surely
of your very great
smile
that you are smiling upon
tea-drinking
me.

for the soul feels
warm
after drinking tea,
through drinking tea,
while drinking tea,
...and shoulders relax
...and eyes relax
...and thoughts relax

and thanks to you I remember peace through
a cup
of oh-so-lovely hot
tea.

poem by Clara Ellen, 2013
(a very old photo, from a summer long past)

Peace

There's a peace I've come to know

though my heart and flesh may fail

there's and anchor for my soul

I can say it is well

Thanksgiving weekend my little brother was in a sledding accident.  It was a bad one, and he was flown out that same night for the hospital in Anchorage where we found out his jaw was broken on both sides and he had a skull fracture that went through his sinus as well as back behind his right ear.  That first day where we had no idea how bad his injuries were, was the worst, you can do nothing except sit there and imagine all of the things that could come of something like that.  I'm not going to try to put words to it though, even if I can, because that's not what this is about.  

It's about the peace.

Because there was peace, especially after that first day and the next, when he had his surgery.  He was okay.  And if he hadn't been, we, somehow, would still have been okay.  Not in a fake, "we're fine, it's all good" sort of way, but in the "no really, we're okay." that is said with a smile in your voice, because you can't help but be in wonder of that fact that it's true.  And always the friends who asked we more worried and pitying then we were.  I mean, yes it sucks that his jaw was wired shut for almost two months, but hey, he's ALIVE.  And the fact that he's permanently deaf in his right ear now, doesn't seem like that big of a deal to any of us, even him.  

And then just this Monday my dad was in a car wreck, his truck was totaled, but no one was hurt.  We might not be getting any money from the insurance, and of our other two vehicles only one currently runs, but somehow, there is peace.  

Real.  Peace.

It's true.  And it's crazy.  Almost hourly I'm shocked that it's still there, because it's so unlike anything I've experienced before.

That verse in Philippians came to mind yesterday as I was marveling at this, it's verse 4:7  "Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand.  His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus."  And I thought so this is what that means!  It had been so long of living in anything but peace, that I'd almost quit believing it was possible, and even in the middle of it it's hard to believe.

It's trusting.  It's one day at a time.  It's how we were meant to live, I think.

Photos... So the sweater is one of my fun buys from Anchorage, I just love that color so much. Ah, it gives me thrills.  And the blouse underneath is one of my few garments I've sewn myself!  It really doesn't look that good in most circumstances, but I do like it here.  And those mountains were from our one night in Wasilla.  Such a beautiful view.  

Happy Friday night!