August Mornings

A completed Retro Sailor dress - get yours here!

 Morning sun glows through canvas, kettle boils, scones steam.

Zippers and gingham and sewing pins mingle with the scraps of paper and lists tumbling out of my day planner.  The plush hedgehog my littlest sister placed in my desk cubby - to make me smile - she said, does just that.  

I run my pen over smooth white paper, marking off boxes, excited about a big upcoming project. 

 I hear the solid hoof beats of our horse as he walks by my tent, on his way to the other end of the pasture, and remember that just a few hours earlier my sister and I were up before the dawn administering Phenylbutazone as he stood twisted in pain, choking.  He is getting so old... but within minutes he was fine, the obstruction in his throat cleared, and today I am thankful.  Thankful for a fast recovery, thankful for a reminder to enjoy and cherish what we have today.

Swimming clothes from the day before flutter in the little breeze as they hang on the porch frame, dry and sweet and crisp.

A special card taped to my desk reads; 'C'est la Vie'.

C'est la Vie.  Such is life.

This little world, photographed and packed into a few dozen choice and lovely words and offered to you typeset and edited and glamorized, is in fact a very real word.  It's just not the complete picture.  This is what my life looks like, just not all of what is looks like.

You don't see the daily frustrations, the little things that try to wear one down - or the bigger things, the things that try to take over one's soul with pain, bitterness, fierce determination to control, uncertainty that leads to horrible fear.

I don't often share these things here because I know I have the power to conquer them, to put them back in their place, to overcome.  Not by my own strength.  By His.

These selected words come from my heart, stemmed from my perspective and experiences... 

These pictures, minute glimpses frozen in time of things I love and touch and see, have a part of their stories that cannot be told, only lived.  There are some things that cannot be shared verbally or visually by a person.  Those things can only be understood by a perspective sharpened by experience and determination, a soul seasoned by an agape, Christ-like love of humanity.  We all have that.  We only need the imagination and faith to utilize it.

My life could be so very ugly, so devoid of hope and joy and beauty.  Fear, pain, failure, betrayal, terrible loneliness - all of these things I know.  We all have our own story to live, each different, yet each the same - you alone know what your story has been, what has made you the person you are today.

I know that I am a lost and uninspiring sinner, given new eyes and a new heart by my Savior, Jesus Christ.  Any beauty I am able to see, to share, is a direct gift from the Creator.

This is the story of me.  

This is the power I have to continue my story, undefeated, aspiring.

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This is the power given to us all.