groves grieving

People in the office today are saying that it has been confirmed that two tornadoes touched down in this area. We have power at work, but I've had no power at home since Tuesday night. Still waiting. Last night, we lit tea candles here and there, and that looked kinda pretty. We should try candlelight again some time, when it is by choice and not necessity.

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The downed branches, and in many cases--whole trees... that was not so pretty. I am probably not what you'd call a "tree hugger," but I still find it sad to see these beautiful giants felled by catastrophic winds. Driving to work, I observed street after street, and mile after mile, that the lawns were lined with piles of broken branches.

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It is merely inconvenient for the Craver house to be without electricity. Granted, I am not there 24/7. Still, it is much easier to deal with this, than the damaged homes that absorbed the crash of heavy tree limbs and massive trunks. As far as I know, there was no loss of life from these tornadoes. Then again, I haven't been able to tune into the evening news yet.

on the morrow

The sun sets on one day, promising to return in a few hours. Its yielding of the sky to twinkling stars is only temporary, because he will return soon to rule the day again.

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Leafless trees are barren for a season. A frosty breeze strips them bare to reveal another form of glory in their creative lines, their shape, their originality.

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A noisy escapee from the recycle bin performs its random and noisy dance in the gusty breezes. It rushes here, then there, crashing occasionally, and then suddenly stopping - as if out of breath.

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Standing there, I soak it all in. Someone steps outside, chin tucked, and begins the hasty charge to the calm inside their car. "What are you so happy about?" they ask. I smile and say, "no mosquitoes."

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But I know they will return. And so will the leaves. And so will the sun. Lord willing, I will be here to enjoy them all again.

sunflower Sunday

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These sunflowers were photographed while visiting my sister. Her neighbor's yard was FILLED with thousands of flowers; I have never seen a home that even comes close to this lady's ratio of flowers-per-square foot! It was pretty, and quite impressive, and although she let me in her yard to take pictures, Sunday afternoon's gusty winds interfered with most of the macros I attempted, especially with the smaller flowers. I spent the majority of the time, eye to the eyepiece, holding my breath, wishing the wind would give me a break.

good driver

The Craver minivan cruised along the interstate a few years ago in a dangerous, slushy, freezing blizzard. The wipers were going full speed. There were several times where the wind tried to change lanes for me, and I had to fight to keep our vehicle in the proper lane. It was dark outside, and I heavily depended on the other cars' lights to get a bearing on where the road turned. We had a long drive ahead of us, and I wanted desperately to drive faster, but the conditions just would not allow me to go any faster.

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I overtook a car in the other lane. As I closed the gap, and eventually pulled ahead, my son cheered from behind me. "We're number one! We're number one!..." I smiled.

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I little later, another car closed the gap and began to overtake US! The tables had turned. My son said, "Hurry up, Dad! They're going to win us!" "Son," I told him, "we're not out here to race; it doesn't help if I go faster and we end up in an accident. I just want to get home alive, okay?"

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The other car was right next to us now. As cheery as anything, S2 said "Okay, Dad." I maintained what I considered to be the best speed, under these conditions, and then the other car pulled ahead.

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With undiminished enthusiasm, he chanted, "We're number two! We're number two!" How cute, I thought. I grinned and laughed inside. But as reckless drivers ignored everyone's safety and continued to pass, he kept score, "...We're number nine! We're number nine!" it got old. I interjected a firm "Son, Daddy needs some quiet now..."

windmill

Last Sunday, I saw an illustration of what it means to be filled with the Spirit. First, you see a container being filled with water until it is running over. That seems wasteful. Next, they show a sailboat. As the wind fills the sails, the boat is enabled to glide swiftly through the water. The energy is not wasted. The boat is not without purpose. The illustration is helpful, I think.

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In Paul's letter to the Ephesians, by contrast, he calls drunkenness "dissipation" or "debauchery." (In other words, you end up with nothing to show for it.) "Instead," he says, "be filled with the Spirit..."

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I wanted to draw a little sailboat on my hand to remind myself to keep on being filled, but started thinking whether I should use pen or marker, then which color. What color should I pick, and how would I draw it, etc. Then, after lunch, I found this colorful little reminder. Thanks, Lord; I see it!