There are soundtracks to life, to every season. I hear strains of a particular song and am reminded of that season, the pains, the joys, and the comfortable familiarity. I am listening to one such soundtrack as I type of my history study sheet and this post. I am remembering a season spent on a living room floor of a small apartment, late into every night, while two small boys slept upstairs and their father worked the graveyard shift. A makeshift mother with none of the fruit. I cried a lot during that season, journaled even more, and spent every night on my face to this soundtrack begging the Lord to pull through and pull me through. For that season I am thankful. For this soundtrack I am thankful.
He and I walked along the river, the budding trees brushing our shoulders and the tender ground, newly unfrozen and testing its strength, beneath our feet. We meant to do homework, but it was chilly and our pages wouldn't stop turning by the mystery that is wind and not speedreading, both convenient excuses to lock our books in the car and forget responsibility. We talked about pollution and factories. He talked about hiking and scientific facts of which I have no understanding but the greatest admiration for those who do. I talked about this morning's sermon and conviction. He reprimanded me for feeling guilty; I reprimanded him for not wanting to know a little something about everything. The spring air blew around us and the sun kissed our faces. We were friends once, and young.
The prayer I have been praying with sincere and earnest desire is that discipline would rise in my life. There are those who say to me to rest, prophesy that even the warrior needs a quiet place to go, to slow down, to take time for fun and to remember that this is the best season of my life. And maybe I'm obstinate to the point of ridiculousness, but I'm also convinced that as long as I have the go ahead from the Lord that my portion is to redeem the time above all else. But I haven't been walking in that in its fullness. Which causes me to wonder if one of two things is true: Maybe I don't have the go ahead from the Lord, or maybe I am just lazy.
He and I walked along the river, the budding trees brushing our shoulders and the tender ground, newly unfrozen and testing its strength, beneath our feet. We meant to do homework, but it was chilly and our pages wouldn't stop turning by the mystery that is wind and not speedreading, both convenient excuses to lock our books in the car and forget responsibility. We talked about pollution and factories. He talked about hiking and scientific facts of which I have no understanding but the greatest admiration for those who do. I talked about this morning's sermon and conviction. He reprimanded me for feeling guilty; I reprimanded him for not wanting to know a little something about everything. The spring air blew around us and the sun kissed our faces. We were friends once, and young.
The prayer I have been praying with sincere and earnest desire is that discipline would rise in my life. There are those who say to me to rest, prophesy that even the warrior needs a quiet place to go, to slow down, to take time for fun and to remember that this is the best season of my life. And maybe I'm obstinate to the point of ridiculousness, but I'm also convinced that as long as I have the go ahead from the Lord that my portion is to redeem the time above all else. But I haven't been walking in that in its fullness. Which causes me to wonder if one of two things is true: Maybe I don't have the go ahead from the Lord, or maybe I am just lazy.
posted by Lore at 26.2.06
10 Comments:
I like the walk-story.
wish it was spring here, I could see budding trees, too.
I'll chat ya now....
"even the warrior needs a quiet place to go" - from Twila Paris? The Warrior is a Child?
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I am forever struggling against laziness (a term I am fairly sure that most people would not label me with, but is definitely appropriate.) Discipline eludes me always - the only time it seems to be in place is when I am excited about being disciplined, which I unfortunately have to acknowledge is not what discipline is all about! Oh, to gain such control over my being that it will respond to my will rather than my soul!
And, oh, that I may choose to set my will rather than let it wander aimlessly!
This has been my cry for far too many years - I tend to think that it is a weakness that will require me to be continually dependent upon Him: His grace, His mercy, and His patience. If I never see it completely conquered, I will still trust in Him - actually, I will have no choice! Could this be my thorn in the flesh? I have sometimes thought so, although I don't see it as a messenger from Satan. But it sure leaves me dependent upon Him. I guess that's not altogether bad, right?
Oh Lore, I love your eloquent, poetic style of writing. I get wisked away to a peaceful, tranquil place every time I'm on your site. I love your design. Keep on releasing your wonderful thoughts and opinions and outlooks that could only come from such a beautiful person as you.
Mikey, I said you could comment, not wax eloquent for six lines! Good lord. I'm embarrassed. Thanks though.
He's right, Lore. I never read your 'blog unless I have the time to savor it. You have a gift with words, the ability to paint pictures, remind the senses, and stir the heart of the girl within me. (Now, from me, that just sounds corny--wish I could be more like you!)
Keep it up. I love it, and I love you for it.
Mission accomplished:)
mission recieved. mission make-lore-cry: accomplished. thanks friend.
Andrews birth is not forgotten, His race was just shorter and was completed, before we wanted.
The Rainbow that appeared on his empty grave that rainy Easter day was just a sign from above that he is okay and will be waiting for all us at the finish line. In his death there is the story of God's glory, told through Drew's sister Lore's stories.
These events have changed all our lives so much we can only begin to tell and may even change those who read about the trials that we all have gone through. The Lord makes no mistakes, so that is why He blessed me with eight wonderful children of which only one who name is Lore and one who was know as Drew.
So, Happy Birthday “Andrew” (aka Drew, Chub) in you state of current state of GLORY.
Love Dad
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