Friday, September 30, 2011

Joshua 'n Anna

A little over a year ago, the Courter asked the Penney if she would be courted. She said she would.
They're still changing together, and thought that pictures would be a good idea. So we did a shoot, and here are a few photos.
9.10.11

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

{because there's a purpose}

I was sitting there, replaying a scene; the conversation clear, sight vivid. I wished I would have acted more. Pretended that things didn't hurt, that there wasn't pain in the rejection. Life seems easier with unpenatrable walls. Steel armor to block out wounds. So I responded wrongly, in anger, to hide the truth. I failed to love.

I struggle with the pain, the knowledge that I'm vulnerable.
With worsening wounds. With wondering why.
With burning scars.

Then, a Voice, clear and True, spoke its way into my thoughts.

I have scars too.

The Perfect One, the One who loves, has scars. Scars that we've given Him.

I aruged back. I know You have scars. But Yours have purpose, and a meaning for us. My scars are deep, purposeless...they have names, stories, and their own power of torture.

Love spoke truth again. My Scars are deeper than you can imagine. Each scar has a name...one of them has your name. But I loved you anyways. I loved you when you hated Me, when you ran from Me. When you wounded Me.
My Child, I'm giving you the gift of scars. You can allow them to torture you, or they can be a reminder...a reminder to love.

These scars. Everyone has them. Some are large, tell tale of a painful injury or accident. Others are small, barely visible, but deep. Those are often the ones that remain the longest.
I often wondered what the purpose was of scars. It seemed for a long time that scars were just a reminder of something I wanted to forget. But I think now I know.

The purpose of the scars is reminder...reminder to love.

The word scar was derived from the Greek word schara, meaning place of fire. The scars we bear remind of times of fires, fires that everyone experiences.  According to the American Academy of Dermatology, no scar can be completely removed.

Not ever.

They're there as reminders to love. But a gift?

Have you not asked for Me to make you more like Myself? Will you reject the journey I'm bringing you on because it's painful? Will you accept the gift of being more like Me?

I want desperately to remember. To love. To accept scars as gifts. To be more like Him.
Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love? 
~F. J. Sheen

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

{on walking into the kitchen before I fully awoke}

"How did the unwashed dishes multiply since 10am last night?"

If I wasn't going to work, I would go back to bed. The good thing is, I'm not driving our carpool to work today. That small fact will most likely save the lives of at least four other people. Somehow.

I'm think I'm running late...or early...

Monday, September 5, 2011

Reflections of sorts

Thursday, September 1, 2011

{my thoughts exactly}

"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appreared to them to be otherwise."
~the Duchess

Joshua 'n Anna

A little over a year ago, the Courter asked the Penney if she would be courted. She said she would.
They're still changing together, and thought that pictures would be a good idea. So we did a shoot, and here are a few photos.
9.10.11

{because there's a purpose}

I was sitting there, replaying a scene; the conversation clear, sight vivid. I wished I would have acted more. Pretended that things didn't hurt, that there wasn't pain in the rejection. Life seems easier with unpenatrable walls. Steel armor to block out wounds. So I responded wrongly, in anger, to hide the truth. I failed to love.

I struggle with the pain, the knowledge that I'm vulnerable.
With worsening wounds. With wondering why.
With burning scars.

Then, a Voice, clear and True, spoke its way into my thoughts.

I have scars too.

The Perfect One, the One who loves, has scars. Scars that we've given Him.

I aruged back. I know You have scars. But Yours have purpose, and a meaning for us. My scars are deep, purposeless...they have names, stories, and their own power of torture.

Love spoke truth again. My Scars are deeper than you can imagine. Each scar has a name...one of them has your name. But I loved you anyways. I loved you when you hated Me, when you ran from Me. When you wounded Me.
My Child, I'm giving you the gift of scars. You can allow them to torture you, or they can be a reminder...a reminder to love.

These scars. Everyone has them. Some are large, tell tale of a painful injury or accident. Others are small, barely visible, but deep. Those are often the ones that remain the longest.
I often wondered what the purpose was of scars. It seemed for a long time that scars were just a reminder of something I wanted to forget. But I think now I know.

The purpose of the scars is reminder...reminder to love.

The word scar was derived from the Greek word schara, meaning place of fire. The scars we bear remind of times of fires, fires that everyone experiences.  According to the American Academy of Dermatology, no scar can be completely removed.

Not ever.

They're there as reminders to love. But a gift?

Have you not asked for Me to make you more like Myself? Will you reject the journey I'm bringing you on because it's painful? Will you accept the gift of being more like Me?

I want desperately to remember. To love. To accept scars as gifts. To be more like Him.
Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love? 
~F. J. Sheen

{on walking into the kitchen before I fully awoke}

"How did the unwashed dishes multiply since 10am last night?"

If I wasn't going to work, I would go back to bed. The good thing is, I'm not driving our carpool to work today. That small fact will most likely save the lives of at least four other people. Somehow.

I'm think I'm running late...or early...

Reflections of sorts

{my thoughts exactly}

"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appreared to them to be otherwise."
~the Duchess

 

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