my body…broke inside so no one can see but i know now i will be fine i’m on my knees…finally me
i look to the Heavens my arms spread open wide sometimes Faith takes time for those who are broke…inside
He see’s what others cannot He accepts my faults from above He takes my hand and leads me home He sacrificed His Son to show His love
He is my refuge and my fortress He is where my strength comes from He protects me in the shadow of His wings He cares for me, loves me He forgives me again and again He provides for the sparrows and also for me and my boys I am thankful So very thankful What a journey it has been Climbing mountains so steep Wandering in the vast wilderness Desert dry as we sought an oasis Mountains moved by Faith Paths appearing where there seemed no way Hope springing eternal A fount of many blessings Through it all we pray Renewal in the final weeks Walking through the valley of the shadow of death God’s promises are real His covenants He goes before you He prepares the way Fear not Do not be ashamed He will never leave you Pray “Your will, not mine” Be still and know that He is God The God of Moses The God of Daniel The God of David Father of Jesus He is our Father in Heaven He is there
He will heal your heart Trust Him today
October 27, 2013 two months and a day since my husband died
a dove is a bird that coos outside the window dove means you went into the water head first
and speaking of coo, a coup is when someone takes over a government by force but a coupe is a car with just two doors which you could drive to the farmer’s coop to bring home some feed for the chicks in…
I’m smiling after meandering my way through this playful word repartee, not to be mistaken for playing Scrabble at a party. ~Janean
This morning as Blue and I walked through the park I savored the scent of the lilacs. Their fragrance reminded me of a long ago art fair conversation, with a painting woman who has the same first name as mine. She told me she was named for the song, “Jeannine, I Dream of Lilac Time.” I found it years ago to listen to, but had forgotten. Rediscovered it today on YouTube, and listened again with a smile this morn. Ah yes. It’s lilac time.
Sit quietly in a storm without an umbrella, without a word of complaint. Let the rain wash away every ounce of bitterness that has been used to write a eulogy on your skin.
You’re not dead.
Drive down to the river. Drive down to where the industrial waste has not re-colored the…
I love the rain Spring rains will come soon Thunderstorms and gentle mists I welcome both
I love walking in the woods and on a gravel road lined with trees on either side
I love resting whether on a proper bench or plopping on the ground
I love the river especially Grandpa’s river the mighty Mississippi standing atop his bluff looking o’er her curving path there I can breathe
I love to smile and often do a gentle curve of lips or crooked at the corner a flash of teeth and quick laugh full wattage mega kind too the best ones reach my eyes
I love the rain I walk my dog without an umbrella wearing rain boots with peacocks splashing through puddles with a grin laughing at my prancing pup
I am not dead. I am here. Thank you, God, for these simple things and the ability to find joy in quiet moments such as these. Thank you for family and friends, and the powerful prayers of Your people who are lifting up my cancer fighting husband and me and our boys asking for the strength and courage we need to weather this vicious storm. We are thankful, humbled and oh, so very blessed. Hope bubbles fresh anew each day. Your love will see us through. ~Janean
This seems to be the place I’m in right now. The soaking up real life and contemplating it later in rare quiet moments, like this one, when my whole house is sleeping, and I probably should be too. ~ Janean
Good advice. Does reading my Tumblr dashboard count? Hope so! Though I do have a trip to the library planned for later today, to pick up a book on hold. It’s waiting behind the desk, just for me. It’s a light and fluffy one, with more laughs than fright. I can’t read Edgar Allan Poe or Stephen King. Nightmares. However, for most of my life I’ve thought The Ultimate Book would be a collection of Poe illustrated by Van Gogh. They just seem to go together. However, their time on Earth didn’t overlap, as Poe died three and a half years before Van Gogh was born.