tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-370240562024-03-14T05:30:06.786-06:00Two Words TogetherSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.comBlogger152125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-83011305197331074742010-01-12T15:28:00.001-07:002010-01-12T15:30:28.635-07:00Lottery"D'you know what I'm going to do when I win the lottery...?"
If we had a winning ticket for every time we've heard that line, right? We think about that debt absolving, travel enabling, financially "freeing" smile-of-fate ourselves, dreaming up the countless ways we'd spend our easy millions.
This time, the words are tripping from my friend's tongue hopefully, excitedly, Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-74457595552705695452010-01-06T22:28:00.001-07:002010-01-06T23:07:54.709-07:00Pick-up SticksNot long after our family moved into our newly-built home, our dishwasher broke. That was seven years ago and we never did get it fixed. That means dishes get done by hand around here and, since I'm the only one that really cares if the smells of rotting food and plugged drains are ousted from the place, I'm the one that scrubs them up.
Day after day after hungry-kid day, I wash those dishes andSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-86885200048362419792009-12-09T16:01:00.000-07:002009-12-09T16:01:06.415-07:00Give Presencehttp://www.adventconspiracy.org/videos/
If you have a minute, check out this link. If you only watch one video, "Enter The Story" is a good one to start on.
I'm too late to apply this wisdom to my Christmas season this year, but I can't wait to make a change next go 'round!Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-43512705851325948752009-12-01T08:26:00.000-07:002009-12-01T08:26:14.014-07:00Tia's PrayerI pray that in the quiet you will hear Him; in the fierceness of the night you will find comfort in Him, and when you cannot, know that (someone) will on your behalf.
~ Tia ~
Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-19694804600061506172009-11-30T22:12:00.000-07:002009-11-30T22:12:36.501-07:00Holding My BreathI'm not very brave. That's probably one of the reasons that faith in an invisible God comes effortlessly, naturally to me. Needing Him is like needing air or water or shelter. I know it. So I believe.
Today has been a scary day. Until this moment, with the house bursting with energy, with newly-hung lights promising memory-making, merry-making, with the distraction of chores and need upon Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-41521008268171986302009-11-21T09:28:00.000-07:002009-11-21T09:28:02.382-07:00Unlikely PackagesDyed-white, thick, straight hair obediently encases her heavily made-up face. She's hurriedly running a brush through it as I approach the sink between her and another woman in the restaurant loo. Fashion and appearance matter to her; everything about her look is deliberate. She's making a statement.
The other gal is struggling with the tap. Is it motion sensitive? Are you supposed actually turnSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-3550529340776066752009-11-02T16:36:00.000-07:002009-11-02T16:36:11.118-07:00I's comin' back for ya'. Don't you never give up on me.
~ Chicken George, ROOTS ~
Don't ever give up on me. Raw need, longing, hope, fear.
What if we never gave up on each other? On our mate, our sibling, our friend? What if they never gave up on us?
Faithfulness without flinching.
Don't give up on the one who's hurting you; the one who's driving you nuts; the one who's wrong.
Just don't.
Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-20710229367602701922009-10-21T11:41:00.001-06:002009-10-21T11:42:38.143-06:00Saint Theresa's PrayerMay today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly
where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite
possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have
received, and pass on the love that has
been given to you.
May you be confident knowing you are a
child of God. Let this presence settle
into your bones, and allow your soul the
freedomSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-57638117709192979942009-10-21T08:31:00.002-06:002009-10-21T08:32:02.259-06:00On Praying For Our KiddosEvery part of me is praying...right down to my atoms I am praying.
~ Valerie ~
Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-87241418941986592552009-10-13T14:44:00.000-06:002009-10-13T14:44:10.361-06:00The OfferI found Natalie in Geez magazine's (http://www.geezmagazine.org/) latest collection of thoughts on "holy mischief in an age of fast faith". Her gently provocative thoughts moved me to change, to grow, to take the face of a friend in my hands and say, "Look away."
So impacted was I that I hunted her down and asked her permission to re-print her thoughts here:
The Offer
In my house live two catsSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-74496103252232821062009-10-05T17:27:00.001-06:002009-10-07T09:02:16.136-06:00I Asked Forty WomenWhat gives you goose bumps? A thought-provoking question from Trina, right? You puzzled over this, describing goose bumps as "thoughts" and things that pop up when you're inspired, moved, frightened. Most of you struggled to answer in a definitive way, but some of the answers themselves will give you goose bumps, for sure! Here's what some of you had to share:
when someone tells you they're Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-25807971389146546282009-10-05T16:59:00.000-06:002009-10-05T16:59:38.006-06:00Adjusting My Listen-erTwo men were walking along a crowded sidewalk in a downtown business area. Suddenly one exclaimed, "Listen to the lovely sound of that cricket!" But the other could not hear. He asked his companion how he could detect the sound of a cricket amidst the din of people and traffic. The first man...had trained himself to listen to the voices of nature, but he did not explain. He simply took a coin outSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-69205270077102034962009-09-20T23:41:00.001-06:002009-09-23T08:15:55.873-06:00Silver
Refined Silver
...I will refine them like Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-46029566795570967432009-09-10T16:04:00.004-06:002009-09-10T16:08:00.929-06:00I Asked 20 Gals a QuestionI asked twenty women, “What makes you smile with contentment?”
They replied,
When I see two old people in their 80's, married 60 plus years and can see they totally love each other.
A hot, clear, sunny day -- especially at the beach
A crumb-less kitchen floor, or counter, or table
Bills paid
Fresh sheets
Soft toilet paper
Reading
Good conversation
Psalm 119
Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-40236887017054779962009-09-10T11:58:00.003-06:002009-09-10T16:19:52.822-06:00Sweeping The Lawn and Other Excercises in Domestic FutilityI woke up to three three dead plants, a soggy loo, and a generally disasstisfied family. I couldn't see our kitchen counters: they're covered in school supplies and last night's supper muck.
By ten o'clock (still morning) I had a rolicking headache and had threatened a complaining child (the one who, just last night, spent a solid ten minutes making a case for why he is no longer a "child")Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-45441425033822324832009-08-23T11:00:00.001-06:002009-08-23T11:00:38.389-06:00Where Wasps go to DieThe water in our backyard swimming pool is sickly green. Clumps of wind-blown dog hair and dead leaves slither their way across it's bottom, carried by the sludgy currents rippling down from the bug and algae laden surface.The twelve by three foot rubber and plastic oasis is so nasty looking that even the neighborhood boys won't stick their toes into it.
And I'm standing on the edge of it, Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-75238677440029694462009-08-15T20:17:00.002-06:002009-08-15T21:10:54.158-06:00Hungry?In his book, "Hunger for God," John Piper suggests that the spiritual discipline of fasting allows us to acknowledge our true hunger for the Divine ~ for God. By setting aside the comforting anesthetic of food, by engaging in a degree of physical discomfort (that leads to emotional discomfort), we permit ourselves to address our deepest longing: The longing for restoration with God.When we deny Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-54350724099877009432009-08-04T14:48:00.003-06:002009-08-04T23:21:15.499-06:00Hail-bitten FruitSummer storms are staggering in their beauty. They're powerful and destructive and wild. With winds whipping around at 100 km/hr, flinging crushing hail and biting rains, they are unstoppable. The ferocity of lightening and chilling temperatures combine to flatten, char, freeze, break, topple.Sometimes our own lives are hit by storms that look a lot like a summer squall (Can you be in a squall ifSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-46155831032418825762009-07-08T08:46:00.004-06:002009-07-21T22:19:35.641-06:00Michael JacksonMichael Jackson died this week. His passing matters in different ways to different people, and in some way to most people. Responses to his tragic leaving are varied, too. Some of us feel shock, others vindication. Some sorrow, some pause, some nothing at all. Some feel angry. Bill has just passed the eighty-years-old mark in his own life. He continues to live alone, unaided, maintaining his own Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-84836794999646374222009-07-02T20:29:00.002-06:002009-07-02T22:56:12.226-06:00ParkerWearing stained khaki shorts and a wide-striped t-shirt, a stranger sits eating cafeteria sushi from a Styrofoam tray. A black and white keffiyeh is slung casually around his neck. X-ray technicians scoot purposefully between examination rooms, quietly intoning the names of first one patient, then the next. A beyond-old gentleman, parchment skin stretched too thin across dying bones, moans gentlySandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-48430580097304004862009-06-29T21:13:00.000-06:002009-06-29T21:20:00.395-06:00Happy Almost-Canada-Dayhttp://www.metronews.ca/calgary/canada/article/253369--canadian-citizenship-like-winning-jackpot-rick-mercerSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-57611749370170315492009-06-29T09:16:00.003-06:002009-06-29T09:45:53.954-06:00Put a Pin in itI'm learning that:making a choice to change your dream for the future is really scary, but it brings peace, too.raspberry plants can't stand up to digging dogs.nobody thirty or older is managing our long winters with any sort of good humor.everybody gets the schedule wrong sometimes. Some of us do so more than others.prayer is a simple and complex intimacy. Belief, likewise.the ice cream truck Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-31711511612206684472009-05-27T17:17:00.008-06:002009-05-28T14:34:05.724-06:00TangibleEvery morning, blurry eyed and just shy of surly, one or the other of my boys climbs up on Grandpa's old swivel bar stool for breakfast at the kitchen island. Various green and growing things sprout contentedly from an assortment of used-to-be-Grandma-and-Grandpa's metal bowls.A bejeweled in blue broach that Grandma used to wear is propped up against a plant pot on a corner shelf.On Monday I madeSandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-64766500857019388532009-05-26T08:40:00.001-06:002009-05-27T17:13:17.912-06:00I don't need advice -- I need people to give a damn.~Jason ~I have no fear of drowningIt's the breathing that's taking all this work~ Jars of Clay ~Sandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37024056.post-46155509970155456462009-05-20T20:53:00.004-06:002010-01-07T00:47:57.873-07:00KevinHis opening statement is, "I'm not gonna' lie to ya'..." Right there you know there are some fish tales on the way. Kevin does not disappoint. Stories trip from thirsty lips, one chasing another, as he coolly appraises his mark. He thrusts a soiled and sticky hand toward me. I take it in my own. We exchange names.
There is murder in his eyes (I'm not big on eyes being the "window to the soul." ISandrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10867582673366531429noreply@blogger.com2