It is a strange thing to read your own work years later, after having been distanced from it for a long time. . .stranger still to hear it sung in a voice you don’t recognize. I found the words resonating with me and I rolled them around in my head, trying to understand the metaphor, before I realized with a start that I had authored the metaphor.

Perhaps it’s a little like seeing your grown and married and bearded son kissing his wife. A new person, a stranger, in a way, but at the same time still the son whom you carried and bore and fed and taught and loved for years. That is the way I imagine it might be, of course; but I suppose I will have to wait until I have a son who is married to see if the comparison is at all accurate. 

It is strange, though, to have written something so long ago, when I knew less of the world than I do now, and to find that I understand my own words more deeply now than I did when they were written. Elizabeth Goudge writes, in the voice of an artist character:

‘I’ve got too far ahead in time. That happens sometimes even in photography, you know. At the time it is taken a photo is not a good likeness, yet, two years later, it is. It’s odd that it should happen in such a mechanized art as photography. In a portrait it is understandable. . .There’s a patient angel in us all, the spirit in the making. And he has two faces. He is the two things that you may be if you do this, or that. Sometimes you see the one looking out of the window, sometimes the other.’ (Elizabeth Goudge, ‘Pilgrim’s Inn’)

I wonder if the portraits, the metaphors that I write, will be accurate in twenty years, in fifty. I know already that in all of the welling years to come, I will find out how little I know now of the depths of darkness and the greatness of our God. But I wonder if seventy years from now, frail and old and child-like once more, I will discover that the child-Carreen knew things she didn’t know she knew. I wonder what will happen after all. . .

In the meantime, a childish poem resurrected and matured by a friend’s persistence:

After All 

so pain stains the windows and tears smear the pane
and we sit here and wonder if weather will ever
blow this old house down again

and you tip back your chair and you say to the wind
a pot of gold is the end of the rainbow
so what is at the beginning?

is there beginning? i thought this was the end
you’ve said it before and i’ll say it again
but this house is not gold
after all
i don’t know
if the nails will hold
after all
after All.

so pain stains the windows and tears smear the pane
and we sit here and wonder if weather will ever
blow this old house down again

and you take my hand and we follow the rainbow
from end to beginning to see
the beauty began before i ran yet after He came for me

before the tears and after the love
after nails of iron dripped with blood
and Promise bowed down from the heavens to cry:

there is beginning, this isn’t the end
it’s stormed before, it will storm again
because that house is not gold
after all
but I Know
these Nails will hold
for Eternity
after All.

]]> http://teaandfigments.com/2016/03/29/after-all-3/feed/ 1 http://teaandfigments.com/2015/01/28/my-well/ http://teaandfigments.com/2015/01/28/my-well/#comments Wed, 28 Jan 2015 22:32:13 +0000 http://teaandfigments.com/?p=1718 ‘”what makes the desert beautiful,” the little prince said, “is that it hides a well somewhere…”‘

you were curious about what it would be like, living in the high desert. used as you were to wine country, rolling hills covered in vineyards, oaks, and redwoods, you were not certain what you would think about living in a land of angles–vertical mountains, flat valleys, cactus spines and box-like buildings. you knew that, whatever you found, you would make it your home. but you didn’t know how easy it would be to make your home among the harsh angles, or much you would like it once you had. you didn’t know this, because you didn’t know that wells come in all shapes and sizes. they look different to each person.

but here you are, in your desert home, and you have found your well…or rather, he found you, and brought you here. you see, your well has dark hair and eyes that never seem to know what color they are. your well has strong hands, hands that wear your ring and open your doors and hold your hand and sometimes wipe away your tears. this is your well, and because of him your desert is beautiful beyond comparison. because of him, the stars pour out water for you to drink and you know the sound of footsteps that are different from all the rest.

you once drove through this desert, years ago, when he was only the name of a friend’s brother whom you had never met, and you thought this desert was the ugliest place you had ever seen. you thought that the land of enchantment was called that because it was under a spell, waiting for the return of the prince to set it free. perhaps that was only because you drove through the wrong part of it…but i think there is a better explanation than this. i think that it was ugly because for you there was no well as yet, and because the prince had not come. now your desert hides a well. the spell is broken. and so, now, this place that is a desert is a beautiful place full of light, adventure, and the most glorious of sunrises and sunsets. what makes the desert beautiful is that it hides, not just a well, but your well…your very own.

‘”hear that?” said the little prince. “we’ve awakened this well and it’s singing…”‘

(from “the little prince” by alexander de saint-exupery)

(from “the little prince” by alexander de saint-exupery)

and in case the pictures didn’t say it well enough…my best friend asked me to marry him.

i said yes.

and i would say ‘the end,’ except for one thing…it is just the beginning.

i didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much, or to be this happy…but i do now.  and i am so, so thankful for the grace and love God has lavished on me through robert. this means a lot of changes, of course…including moving from california to new mexico in four short months. but God has been faithful this far and i am confident that He will continue to guide us as we start a new life as husband and wife. and embarking on a lifelong adventure with my best friend? i can’t think of anything more wonderful than that.

we bear the light of the Son of Man

so there’s nothing left to fear

so i will walk with you in the shadow lands

until the shadows disappear

because He promised not to leave us, and His promises are true

so in the face of all this chaos, i can dance with you

so let’s go dancing in the minefields

let’s go sailing in the storm

this is harder than we dreamed, but i believe

that’s what the promise is for

that’s what the promise is for.

andrew peterson.dancing in the minefields

credit: janelle bradshaw

and so, i muse and scribble.

this year i have been reading c. h. spurgeon’s ‘morning and evening’ daily devotionals. not consistently, of course…i am also trying, once more, to hold to a read-through-the-bible-in-a-year plan, and i have made that a priority over the devotionals. so, i have already missed several readings and likely will miss many more over the course of the year. and honestly, i’m ok with that. because that’s one of the things that i find so attractive about this little booklet…that it is so approachable, so easy to pick up and profit from, even if i can only pick it up once a week.

i’ve tackled the ambitious and potentially unattainable goal of running a rather mountainous half-marathon in may. i’ve given myself permission to re-evaluate and decide to run only the 7-mile option, should either my abilities or those of my ankle, once sprained and still stubborn, prove insufficient for 13.1. but for now, i am  training as if for the half, which means trying to run hills as often as possible.

today i went to a park near our house, wooded and hilly and beautiful in the slightly frosted mid-morning. there is something about running that i find irresistible. i am not especially good at it. i have had to work hard to be able to run four miles with relative ease, and i am quickly finding that hills are extremely challenging; and not entirely a pleasant one. but there is something very good about running. i’ve found that the time spent alone, with nothing to do but put one foot in front of the next, is a good time to pray. while i’m running, i know just exactly how strong i am…and no matter how far or how fast i run, it is always ‘not very.’ i may be strong enough to run four+ miles, or probably even a bit further…but at some point, my strength ends. and knowing where that strength ends is a tangible way for me to humble myself before God in prayer.

though i don’t recall whether i spent much of my run this morning praying, i do remember that i hit that point of humility. sitting at the kitchen table afterwards, reading my bible as i ate  breakfast, i was exhausted. after reading in genesis and in matthew, i still had half a mugful of yogurt left to consume, so i reached for ‘morning and evening’…and what i read there was so strengthening that i had to share it. hopefully someone else will find it as encouraging as i did.

january 15/morning

‘do as Thou hast said’ ~ 2 samuel 7:25

God’s promises were never meant to be thrown aside as waste paper; He intended that they should be used. God’s gold is not miser’s money, but is minted to be traded with. nothing pleases our Lord better than to see His promises put in circulation; He loves to see His children bring them up to Him, and say, ‘Lord, do as Thou hast said.’ we glorify God when we plead His promises. do you think that God will be any the poorer for giving you the riches He has promised? do you dream that He will be any the less holy for giving holiness to you? do you imagine He will be any the less pure for washing you from your sins? He has said, ‘come now, let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.’ faith lays hold upon the promise of pardon, and it does not delay, saying, ‘this is a precious promise, i wonder if it be true?’ but it goes straight to the throne with it, and pleads, “Lord, here is the promise, do as Thou hast said.’ our Lord replies, ‘be it unto thee even as thou wilt.’

when a Christian grasps a promise, if he does not take it to God, he dishonours Him; but when he hastens to the throne of grace, and cries, ‘Lord, i have nothing to recommend me but this, “Thou hast said it”‘; then his desire shall be granted. our heavenly Banker delights to cash His own notes. never let the promise rust. draw the word of promise out of its scabbard, and use it with holy violence. think not that God will be troubled by your importunately reminding Him of His promises. He loves to hear the loud outcries of needy souls. it is His delight to bestow favours. He is more ready to hear than you are to ask. the sun is not weary of shining, nor the fountain of flowing. it is God’s nature to keep His promises; therefore go at once to the throne with, ‘do as Thou hast said.’

i needed to read that today. of all things that i could possibly have read, that was what i needed to read…and of all days i could have possibly picked up that book, i picked it up today. not by chance…by providence. because the God who delights to hear and answer His children’s prayers also delights in faithfully providing to each of us what we need at the exact moment we need it. and for that, i am infinitely thankful.

 ‘i put all my hope in the truth of Your promise
and i steady my heart on the ground of Your goodness
when i’m bowed down with sorrow i will lift up Your name
and the foxes in the vineyard will not steal my joy
because You are good to me.’

(audrey assad . good to me)

‘therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.’

(hebrews 4:16)

credit: janelle bradshaw

that’s all she said then.

but i found that as i focused my camera on the fruit-laden branches, my cousins petting cats and climbing trees and getting sticky with apple juice, the glorious golden sunlight washing over it all…my heart filled with light, as well. the elderly lady who hosted us at one point said, ‘there is so much to make you smile. the fruit, the sunshine, the bees, the flowers…’

it was such a simplistic view of the world…but oh, i needed to hear it that day.

because my heart was so heavy that i had forgotten that there was an outside world. that God had showered me already with so many blessings. that the very air i breathed was a gift. that His love was and is evident in ways that i so often take for granted.

‘yesterday is gone
today i can see, oh, today i can see
my, my, my, for the very first time
i waved goodbye, bye, bye
to what used to weight me down
my, my, my, everything’s alright
the sun is shining down
i’m looking all around
and this is just so beautiful…’

jenny&tyler.this is just so beautiful

the feeling of joy and sweetness that i found that morning did not last forever. the rest of that day was difficult in many ways. the next morning was even harder. but the flavor of it stayed with me. i caught the scent of it when i passed the buckets and bags of apples in the garage, when i watched the glowing sun disappear over purple hills that evening. i found it with tears that night as i prayed and i heard it in the sound of the crickets outside my window.

God is good. always. and when i have lost sight of that goodness, i need to focus my mind and my heart on the evidences of it that He has so graciously given.

sometimes, that takes literally focusing my camera on beautiful things, simple things–a child stretching up to reach an apple,  sunlight trickling through the trees, a cat napping on a gold-bathed porch. and it takes reminding myself of my roots–my family, the outdoors, capturing moments of beauty and joy.

and as i later found out–my mom knew all that.

‘i begin to see reality
for the first time in my life
i know that i’m a shadow
but i’m dancing in Your light…’

jj heller.only love remains

‘sunlight over me no matter what I do
apples in the summer are golden sweet
every day a passing complete…’

fleet foxes.the shrine/an argument

‘when the sun
shines through the leaves of the apple-tree,
when the sun
makes shadows of the leaves of the apple-tree,
then i pass
on the grass
from one leaf to another,
from one leaf to its brother…’

a. a. milne.twinkletoes

(i took two almost identical pictures, but left a little more bokeh in one than in the other. the one above is a little sharper and more vibrant, but i like the next one better…it is not a picture of the apples so much as it is a picture of the light, and that i love.)

‘i pray light will 
leak from our pockets 
we’ll be drenched, overcome 
at night the fireflies 
streamers at our sides 
silent flaming arcs of hope…’

josh garrels.jacaranda tree

(elizabeth goudge, ‘the white witch’)

but for now, my calendar is four weeks long. just four weeks.

and i have so many plans for when these four weeks are over: pursuing piano and publication, refinishing furniture, experimenting in the kitchen, running a 10k, accomplishing some much-needed sewing projects, sitting on the beach with nothing but waves and sand on my mind, catching up on so much correspondence, maybe finding a job, working on my flip flop tan, maybe throwing a little camping or travel in the mix…

but for now, my calendar is four weeks long. there are times when i am pumped for them and times when i just don’t know if i’m going to make it through them and most times, i find myself quoting we’re going on a bear hunt to myself: ‘we can’t go under it, we can’t go over it, oh, no, we’ve got to go through it!’

and so, while this quiet place stays even quieter than normal for another few weeks, i will be living on tea, chocolate, and grooveshark. i will be studying and writing and fitting in runs (‘training’ for a rather colorful 5k in a few weeks) and phone calls and baby squishes in between. i will be feeling thankful when i see 100s on my liberal arts capstone course (mini bachelor’s ‘thesis’) and frustrated when i see…well, i won’t mention the grades from the african encounters course. i will be counting down days with ever-increasing anxiety. and most of all, i will be feeling oh, so thankful for Strength that is not limited by my weakness.

‘hold on steady and strong
here’s the dawn coming on, it won’t be long
oh, it’s easy to stand in the light with pain
in the light i will ever remain…’

(‘fare thee well’ by kate rusby)