Thursday, September 8, 2011

he told me to write so i'm writing

j & m baby m c & m

last night we were sitting on the couch after Micah went to bed.
i was "pinning" on my laptop (find me here) and Curtis was surfing the web on the ipad.

he must've checked my blog to see if i had written anything lately (which i hadn't) and he looked at me and said:

"you gotta write, woman!"

"i know." i said flatly, more inspired by lovely photos of food and the creative endeavors of others than by my own words lately.

but write i will, lest i lose the few followers i have attracted.

today i skipped a shower because Micah had already been up for a while, babbling to himself if his crib and i had the choice to make - coffee or a shower. i chose the coffee. Which i sipped as i put on makeup anyways, and deodorant - always deodorant.

i am almost out of diapers, so a trip to the store is in order later.

during morning naptime i read. first morning and evening by Charles Spurgeon. Then i finished Romans. Then One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. He kept sleeping so i kept after page on thanks and grace.

she writes, "Contemplative simplicity isn't a matter of circumstances, but a matter of focus..."

"I pay tribute to God by paying attention..."

"The life of true holiness is rooted in the soil of awed adoration. It does not grow elsewhere," J.I. Packer says, and she quotes.

"I am a wandering Israelite who sees the flame in the sky above, the pillar, the smoke from the mountain, the earth open up and give way, and still i forget. I am beset by chronic soul amnesia. I empty of truth and need refilling. I need come again every day - bend, clutch, and remember - for who can gather the manna but once, hoarding, and store away sustenance in the mind for all of the living?"

by the time Micah wakes up again, i am filled.
but just for today, maybe even only just enough to finish off the morning.

i read "From me is thy fruit found." (Hosea 14:8)

then i close my books, go make a rested boy giggle, make a trip for diapers and let all these words, other's words, seep into my very being and try to remember to pay tribute to God by paying attention. to each moment, as meager or meek as they are.

*photos: Labor Day play time...oh how we love him!

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