Psalm 42: Waves and Breakers

This is one of the most REAL Psalms I know of. It doesn’t hold back or cover up the real struggles of the one who wrote it. Because of that, I think it can be encouraging to us, not because it gives simplistic answers but because we can realize that we are not alone in our situation or feelings. And there are times that is what is important ...

Psalm 42 (The Message)

A psalm of the sons of Korah

1-3 A white-tailed deer drinks from the creek;
I want to drink God,
deep draughts of God.
I'm thirsty for God-alive.
I wonder, "Will I ever make it—
arrive and drink in God's presence?"
I'm on a diet of tears—
tears for breakfast, tears for supper.
All day long
people knock at my door,
Pestering,
"Where is this God of yours?"

4 These are the things I go over and over,
emptying out the pockets of my life.
I was always at the head of the worshiping crowd,
right out in front,
Leading them all,
eager to arrive and worship,
Shouting praises, singing thanksgiving—
celebrating, all of us, God's feast!

5 Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?
Why are you crying the blues?
Fix my eyes on God—
soon I'll be praising again.
He puts a smile on my face.
He's my God.

6-8 When my soul is in the dumps, I rehearse
everything I know of you,
From Jordan depths to Hermon heights,
including Mount Mizar.
Chaos calls to chaos,
to the tune of whitewater rapids.
Your breaking surf, your thundering breakers
crash and crush me.
Then God promises to love me all day,
sing songs all through the night!
My life is God's prayer.

9-10 Sometimes I ask God, my rock-solid God,
"Why did you let me down?
Why am I walking around in tears,
harassed by enemies?"
They're out for the kill, these
tormentors with their obscenities,
Taunting day after day,
"Where is this God of yours?"

11 Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?
Why are you crying the blues?
Fix my eyes on God—
soon I'll be praising again.
He puts a smile on my face.
He's my God.

The Earth Laughs in Flowers

A couple of flowery quotes to share on this winter day in the mountains ...


To see a World in a grain of sand And Heaven in a wild flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour

~William Blake

Earth laughs in flowers.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)

Your Power Bird

My power bird? Good grief! Oh well ... why not ...

http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourpowerbirdquiz/

Your Power Bird is a Vulture

You are always changing your life and the lives of those around you.
You aren't afraid to move on from what holds you back.
Energetic and powerful, you have a nearly unlimited capacity for success.
You know how to "go with the flow" and take advantage of what is given to you.

Love & Wild Irises

With Valentines Day coming up I would like to place this, one of my most favorite of poems, out there. Ideally, love should be spontaneous and unexpected but the reality can be very different. The daily dreary routine of family life destroys the spontaneous give and take of true love. It gets completely choked and suppressed by the dull monotonous and boring duties of daily household life like cooking a meal for the family, feeding the baby or taking the clothes to the cleaners, becoming a chauffeur ... Susan Griffin captures, in a very moving way, the feelings of many people who yearn for true love which is as spontaneous and reinvigorating as the sudden and unexpected blooming of the wild iris after a thunder storm. However, it is not meant to be that love should die down, but blossom into something greater!

Love Should Grow Up Like a Wild Iris in the Fields

Love should grow up like a wild iris in the fields,
unexpected, after a terrible storm, opening a purple
mouth to the rain, with not a thought to the future,
ignorant of the grass and the graveyard of leaves
around, forgetting its own beginning.
Love should grow like a wild iris
but does not.

Love more often is to be found in kitchens at the dinner hour,
tired out and hungry, lingers over tables in houses where
the walls record movements, while the cook is probably angry,
and the ingredients of the meal are budgeted, while
a child cries feed me now and her mother not quite
hysterical says over and over, wait just a bit, just a bit,
love should grow up in the fields like a wild iris
but never does
really startle anyone, was to be expected, was to be
predicted, is almost absurd, goes on from day to day, not quite
blindly, gets taken to the cleaners every fall, sings old
songs over and over, and falls on the same piece of rug that
never gets tacked down, gives up, wants to hide, is not
brave, knows too much, is not like an
iris growing wild but more like
staring into space
in the street
not quite sure
which door it was, annoyed about the sidewalk being
slippery, trying all the doors, thinking
if love wished the world to be well, it would be well.

Love should
grow up like a wild iris, but doesn't, it comes from
the midst of everything else, sees like the iris
of an eye, when the light is right,
feels in blindness and when there is nothing else is
tender, blinks, and opens
face up to the skies.

~ Susan Griffin ~

(Like the Iris of an Eye)

petulant

petulant
Originally uploaded by Thundercatt99

My granddaughter Jazzy not having the best of days.