Happy Tuesday!
I wrote this poem a few weeks ago after being blown away by the beauty of....well, everything. I pictured the Creator as the ultimate artist, actually painting the skies, or composing the sounds the birds make. One day I'll put it to music and sing it, but for now its just a little poem. Nonetheless I wanted to share it. I hope it encourages you like it did me as you reflect on the art that is life!
One stroke of a brush
And there was light-
A canvas of wet,
A canvas of dry.
Strokes of life.
One beat of a drum
And galaxies dance,
And tides twirl in,
And flowers chant
Singing with one voice.
One drop of color,
A page of white.
A skillful design
Brush strokes of life.
The paint soaked deep within my skin,
Now I sing of paintings painted within,
One million sounds bleed into one.
All of the colors speak with one tongue.
All of the hearts beat by one drum.
All of the hurt is healed by one love.
The paint soaked deep into my skin,
Now I sing of paintings painted within.
(ps. Please comment below with thoughts, suggestions, hate mail, random questions.....anything, really. I'd love to hear from anyone who is reading!)
Thoughts on a Sunday: She Loved Much
I heard a sermon this morning preached from Luke 7:36-50. (Disclaimer: read it before you read this post...or it won't make any sense! Just in case you aren't within arm's reach of a Bible, here is a link to the passage.) There is a lot that could be said about this chapter, but the woman in particular stood out to me. While I so often read that passage and admire her humility or absentmindedly admit that I should love as she does, I've never actually been convicted about it until this morning's sermon. Here are my thoughts:
This nameless woman, simply because she was just that: a woman, was unwelcome at the gathering Jesus was attending. The pharisees looked down their noses at her while the tax-collectors scoffed as she entered. All eyes were on this "woman of the streets", a prostitute, someone as socially low as you could be at the time. Many probably tried physically forcing her to leave the room, others were too shocked to speak. But she, indifferent to the others, immediately went to Jesus and stood at his feet. In her hands she held an alabaster flask of perfume, probably the payment for her "profession" and the most valuable thing she owned. Her heart overwhelmed by the weight of her imperfection, she- weeping- kneels at the feet of Jesus. This action itself would have been enough to have her thrown out of the house and punished, but she goes further. Bending over Jesus' feet (the most defiled and unclean part of the body to the Hebrews), she lets her tears fall on them. As the others watch in astounded silence, she lets down her hair (a woman's glory according to Paul in 1 Corinthians) and washes the feet of a total stranger with her hair and tears. Not only that, but she pours her perfume, her most prized possession, on this man's feet, kissing them over and over.
Completely appalled by her behavior the pharisees think to themselves that if Jesus were truly a prophet as he claimed to be, he would know what a worthless, despised sinner was kissing his feet. But Jesus, knowing the pharisees' thoughts, asked them, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house, you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven- for she loved much..."
She loved much.
The pharisees with all their wealth and party-throwing and "good-deeds" were mere hypocrites in the eyes of Jesus. But the woman, a nameless, penniless prostitute, with only her tears to offer, was considered worthy of love. I'm reminded of Isaiah 1:18- "...for though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow".
This woman in Luke 7 was an unlikely hero- despised by everyone around her, impure, filthy, an emotional wreck- but she had one thing that set her apart. She loved much. And this love, this pure, white-as-snow love, made her worthy of being loved. May we all become more like this despised woman- offering our tears and possessions at the feet of Jesus- the only one who makes us able to "love much".
This nameless woman, simply because she was just that: a woman, was unwelcome at the gathering Jesus was attending. The pharisees looked down their noses at her while the tax-collectors scoffed as she entered. All eyes were on this "woman of the streets", a prostitute, someone as socially low as you could be at the time. Many probably tried physically forcing her to leave the room, others were too shocked to speak. But she, indifferent to the others, immediately went to Jesus and stood at his feet. In her hands she held an alabaster flask of perfume, probably the payment for her "profession" and the most valuable thing she owned. Her heart overwhelmed by the weight of her imperfection, she- weeping- kneels at the feet of Jesus. This action itself would have been enough to have her thrown out of the house and punished, but she goes further. Bending over Jesus' feet (the most defiled and unclean part of the body to the Hebrews), she lets her tears fall on them. As the others watch in astounded silence, she lets down her hair (a woman's glory according to Paul in 1 Corinthians) and washes the feet of a total stranger with her hair and tears. Not only that, but she pours her perfume, her most prized possession, on this man's feet, kissing them over and over.
Completely appalled by her behavior the pharisees think to themselves that if Jesus were truly a prophet as he claimed to be, he would know what a worthless, despised sinner was kissing his feet. But Jesus, knowing the pharisees' thoughts, asked them, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house, you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven- for she loved much..."
She loved much.
The pharisees with all their wealth and party-throwing and "good-deeds" were mere hypocrites in the eyes of Jesus. But the woman, a nameless, penniless prostitute, with only her tears to offer, was considered worthy of love. I'm reminded of Isaiah 1:18- "...for though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow".
This woman in Luke 7 was an unlikely hero- despised by everyone around her, impure, filthy, an emotional wreck- but she had one thing that set her apart. She loved much. And this love, this pure, white-as-snow love, made her worthy of being loved. May we all become more like this despised woman- offering our tears and possessions at the feet of Jesus- the only one who makes us able to "love much".
Adventure is Out There!
Just as I predicted, my weekend was one big creative marathon. I thrifted and crafted and sewed and wrote. Pretty perfect, indeed. And as an added bonus, my parents drove through and took me to dinner!
Here are a few shots of the weekend and (as promised) the resulting projects:
Here are a few shots of the weekend and (as promised) the resulting projects:
Before classes started on Tuesday, a few friends and I hiked around Horsetooth Reservoir for one last "hurrah".
Project #1: this "birdnest" necklace out of wire and beads :)
Project #2: This clutch out of a placemat. Beautifully easy!
Its a well-known fact that my handwriting is about as neat as a 6 year old's, so
the lovely Taylor helped me out.
The finished project! (And my wall of records!) The hearts on the map represent places I've either been or hope to go one day. "Adventure is out there" (a quote from Pixar's UP) was a perfect fit.
My cozy little half of the room is slowly becoming a "home".
TGFO: Thank God Friday Is Over.
I'm exactly a semester and a week in to college. And I still love it. Good news, right? However, I am relieved it is the weekend.
I love weekends when I have no agenda, minimal homework, and a head full of inspiration. Seeing as the next few days fit the bill, this weekend is hereby dedicated to crafting and decorating my brank-spankin' new dorm room. As a broke college kid, thrift stores have quickly become my new passion in life and that's probably where I'll be spending most of my time. Thrift-ing is an exciting challenge- its addicting to discover what wonderful treasures I can stumble on while spending less than what a frappuccino costs from Starbucks. You can find me in the men's section trying on sweaters or rummaging through 99 cent records to melt into shelves for my wall. The possibilities are truly endless.
In honor of my longstanding wander-lust, Madi and I want to hang a world map up in our room. I found this little number and will hopefully re-create it for our very own:
I love weekends when I have no agenda, minimal homework, and a head full of inspiration. Seeing as the next few days fit the bill, this weekend is hereby dedicated to crafting and decorating my brank-spankin' new dorm room. As a broke college kid, thrift stores have quickly become my new passion in life and that's probably where I'll be spending most of my time. Thrift-ing is an exciting challenge- its addicting to discover what wonderful treasures I can stumble on while spending less than what a frappuccino costs from Starbucks. You can find me in the men's section trying on sweaters or rummaging through 99 cent records to melt into shelves for my wall. The possibilities are truly endless.
In honor of my longstanding wander-lust, Madi and I want to hang a world map up in our room. I found this little number and will hopefully re-create it for our very own:
Picture from Sincerely, Kinsey, whose blog inspired most of my projects for the weekend.
I'm excited to give it a shot and see what other fun projects I can concoct.
Happy weekend!!
A Little Post
I came across this little poem about the little things and wanted to share a few of my own from my little life that have made it oh so very beautiful lately. It really is the little things That mean the most of all... The "let me help you with that" things That may seem very small The "I'll be glad to do it" things That make your cares much lighter, The "laugh with me, it's funny" things That make your outlook brighter... The "never mind the trouble" things, The "yes, I understand," The interest and encouragement In everything you've planned It really is the little things, The friendly word or smile, That add such happiness to life And make it more worth while. -Mary Dawson Hughes My Little Things: Drinking a mug of my mom's homemade Indian chai. Watching the sunrise over Fort Collins while the rest of the town sleeps. Texting song ideas with my dad. Singing in the car so loudly it should probably be considered a safety risk. Loving each of my classes in a brand new semester. Wearing clear-lensed glasses for no reason at all. People-watching around campus, wondering what each different life is like. Laughing at nothing. Pedicure-ing with my grandma. Reading children's books out loud in a pile of blankets and old friends. Window shopping in old-town between classes. Wearing a t-shirt outside in January. Smiling at strangers in class. Remembering how beautiful the stars are. Trying sushi for the first time. Planning my return to Africa. Snowboarding at last. Collecting phrases and words and ideas to write about later. Decorating a new dorm room. Praying for direction. Eating too much pizza. Dancing like a fool in Zumba. Watching Audrey Hepburn movies. Helping Denver become a little more playful by installing random tire swings. Dreaming about Europe. Jumping into the new year, literally. Sleeping less than usual. Wondering about the future yet knowing I'm exactly where I need to be. "If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has power to move you, if the simple things of nature have a message that you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive." -- Eleonora Duse | ||
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