2009 April | chatting at the sky

dear Microsoft Word,

April 15, 2009

Dear Microsoft Word,

You were first introduced in 1983 so that makes you 26 years old now. At 26, I would expect you to be cutting edge. So don’t you think it’s time that your spell check recognizes the word blogging? Seriously.

When I type the word blogging, I do not in fact mean bogging or logging. I also don’t mean flogging, clogging or slogging. Though I do appreciate your generous suggestions. Also, when I write ‘blog’, I am not actually trying to say bog, bloc, blot, blob. Or blow. Although I do want to thank you for adding to the distaste I already have of the word blog as it is in such close relation to all those other equally unattractive words.

Also? Those red squiggly underlines bring out the ugly in this recovering white-out-user. They are little false alarms all over the page. Like skinny red boys crying wolf on my document, screaming for correction when they’re ALREADY CORRECT.

I admit I’m a Mac user, so this might not mean much coming from me. But I do appreciate all the work you’ve done for me over the years: the centering, the italicizing, and the print previewing. Not to mention all those other words you spell just right for me. But please, for the love of all things current, include blogging in your next spell check upgrade.

thank you and do have a lovely day,

Emily, a Blogger (not to be confused with a Bolger, Logger, Flogger, or Bolgier)

tuesday

April 14, 2009

Back in December, we did a little project called Everyday Unwrapped. Many of you linked up and joined me on the journey of noticing. I am sad that the Mister Linky didn’t follow me when I switched domains, as those links you provided were not only fabulous, but basically the whole point of the project.

everyday-unwrapped2

I’ve been at it again, looking for nothing and finding everything. I have been keeping my camera closer than usual these days. In an experiment of noticing, the sweet sacred things rise to the surface in the midst of the everyday. It is fascinating to me how much story exist in each moment if I would simply see it. A lens forces me to do that.

tuesday-morning

Like this mess, for example. I started to clean it up in a hurry, ready to see the table top again. But then I remembered to notice and took a picture instead. It’s not so much the messy color, it’s what the mess means: a morning of crafts and notes to Daddy.

Doing this on a Tuesday is significant, as that is the name of the song that serves as the inspiration for the blog title. Most of you know that, but if you are new you can read about Tuesday on the about page.

So for a while, Tuesdays will be dedicated to celebrating smallness and taking time to stop to chat at the sky…or at least photograph it. And if I can figure out how to have a Mister Linky on a WordPress blog by next week, I would love to ask you to join me.

Tagged photography, rest Filed Under a photographer 10 Comments

making a place for her

April 13, 2009

It is important to pay attention to the things that make you tear up. Those things tell you something about yourself and perhaps, something about the God who made you. Lately I have been challenged to pay attention to those tender moments during a conversation with a friend or a sermon at church rather than try to avoid or ignore them.

sunsetbeach

For many months, my dear friend Sissy has been waiting for a baby. When it began to seem as though she would be unable to conceive, her heart turned willingly to adoption. It has only been five months since they picked an agency, but a little less than two weeks ago, they got the call.

In matter of minutes, her dream of becoming a mother seemed within reach. As the birth parents continue the process of relinquishing parental rights, Sissy’s prayer is that they would know that she and her husband already love this little girl, and that they are making a place for her in their home. It’s true, they do. And they are. They have a room for her with a crib and pretty green walls and a rocking chair in the corner.

When I read those words that Sissy wrote, that they are ‘making a place for her’, the emotion welled up and spilled over before my mind could logically process their meaning.This little baby is redeemed and brought near before she even has a chance to be rejected. I can’t imagine the anguish of a woman carrying a child within her, knowing only a matter of days separate her from the life she bears within. I can’t imagine the difficulty of giving up your baby. But I’m so glad she was willing to choose life when she could have chosen death.

I see in Sissy’s longing a glimpse of the Father’s love for us. She longs for this baby to know that she is wanted, loved and sought after.

Just like us.

So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead you received God’s Spirit when He adopted you as His own children. Now, we call him, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15 NLT

To read more on adoption, check out my links under stories of adoption.

Filed Under a friend, a house-lover, a mother 20 Comments

’tis the gift to be simple

April 10, 2009

She sat in time-out and screamed. As I opened the fridge to fill the sippy cups, I had a sense of the Lord speaking into my heart. I didn’t even realize I had asked a question, but I had. Lord, help. I don’t know how to parent today. It’s just too hard. And do you know what He said to me?

tulip

“This is my gift to you today. I am working my patience into you. Do you know of a better way to learn to receive my patience? Take…and say thank you.”

It wasn’t the gift I wanted. If patience could be learned on a quiet beach on a warm summer evening, I would be the first to sign up. Perhaps Jesus thought the same thing about redemption when He asked his Father if there was another way to save His people. There wasn’t. So He died, that we might have life abundantly. So that we might have a way to the Father as well as a way to handle the everyday stresses of life.

And so I took my gift and said thank you. It made all the difference.

Filed Under a mother 31 Comments

i want to see your face

April 8, 2009

You know how when you comment on a Blogger blog and your cute little photo pops up next to it? And then when you go to another type of blog it doesn’t show up? Instead, you get this shadowy fellow:

shadowman

Or, just for kicks, let’s take my blog. You leave your witty and fascinating comment, and when it shows up on the blog you get a big, chatty sun next to your words, like this.

chattysun

I’m all about my chatty sun. But if you would rather have your own gravatar (globally recognized avatar), go to gravatar.com to get your free personalized gravatar. It will then show up on all gravatar enabled sites, WordPress included. So go get your gravatar, come back here and test it out in the comments. I want to see your face!

Filed Under blog business 89 Comments

pink chats

April 7, 2009

Nothing says spring more than this pink fluffy tree in our yard. It is my favorite thing about today. Makes me want to stop and chat at the sky.

spring

I’m trying to ignore how terribly the blue sky clashes with my header. Kindly do the same. Then tell me…what is your favorite thing about today?

Filed Under a photographer 42 Comments

fuzzy-ish

April 6, 2009

japanese-maple

Ish is the best word I can think of to describe the days I’m in. Lots of things started, but nothing finished. Fitting that -ish isn’t even a finished word. I need to find the Fin for my Ish. Its as if I’m perpetually preparing for a yard sale that I’m never going to have. So I put junk in a box to save and it sits there, waiting to be sold or thrown away. But I lack the motivation or inspiration or courage to take care of it. So it remains there in the box, idle and useless.

To be more specific, I have lots of ideas swirling around in my head like soup. They are organized-ish because they are at least in the bowl. But soup doesn’t get the point across. I read in a book recently that the job of a writer is to make a bouillon cube out of bouillon. Backward, impossible and precisely, painfully true.

Filed Under a freak, a mess 23 Comments