her leaves are always green

finding [the right], rhythm in an off-beat world

rhythm  [rith -uh m] 

it keeps me in step, balanced.

not dragging behind, slowing.

not rushing ahead, pushing. forcing.

whenever i move away, stop listening to and feeling Him,

    the rhythm is what alerts me.

    signals that i'm out of step.

    that the flow is at risk.

    the beauty of my music disrupted.

        i usually look pretty silly too.

 

If i believe that God has written me,

    is conducting my song,

    making beautiful music of my clumsy efforts,

don't i need to stop trying to create my own rhythm?

making a patterned life to reach Him?

always striving to find the right beat?

 

He looks at the bars and notes, thoughfully written by His Own Hand.

Artistry and passion compelled Him,

crafting this one, particular work.

Already He hears it in His heart.

He lifts His eyes from the score,

expectantly searches mine.

    will i watch Him?

    follow?

    stay in time?

    my life riding on harmony & cadence composed for me?

 

i draw a deep breath.

Resolve beats strong in my chest -

    a rhythm it's own.

Always easier at the start - New Year giddy,

i have my lists, my ideas, my plans, my vision.

Each threatens to disrupt, beating more quickly and pulling me out of sync.

Away from Him and the beauty He wants to conduct.

    i want to follow

    i want to follow

    i want to follow

 

So how do i know?

Is this great idea part of His music?

Is that pursuit written into His score?

 

If my effort and focus is creating my own tempo

to fit my lists into the song He has written,

i will find myself off beat.

    unsteady.

    a disruption.

    looking silly.

 

i look at my dreams and plans, vividly imagined and written

by my own hand.

i lift my eyes from the list

and find His.

    Expectant.

    Brimming with hope.

    He - already hearing the beauty that was conceived in His heart and

    mind.

i notice His foot.  Tapping a measured, rhythmic beat.

    i exhale as i realize the ease - so long as I watch Him.

        Continually.

        Purposefully.

 

Who knows this music better?

He won't direct me off course!

He doesn't purpose dischord!

 

Some of my great ideas may show up in the chorus -

some ... probably not.

Will i trust what he has written?

What He conducts?

 

I realize there is another song

    a foreign beat - tapping in my head.

    Throwing me off.

    Stirring confusion.  Doubt.

If i don't turn it off,

    stop listening,

i won't be able to hear His.

i'll miss His signals and stop noticing

    His foot.  Tapping.

    His eyes.  Searching.

His intentions draw confidence

    i want to follow

    i want to follow

    i want to follow

 

It starts here -

    i want to follow

    i want to follow

    i want to follow

 

His arms swing wide -

    reminding me what He did for me.

His arms draw close -

    i sense His strong embrace.

His arms drop low -

    pointing to where He's been before.

His arms rise high -

    i see the Father's Face.

 

    i will follow

    i will follow

    i will follow

 

Only then i feel it.  Only after i choose the surrender.

    The giving up control.  And plans.

Lifting my eyes from my score - to His face.

 

His pulse beats within me.

His Spirit my metronome.

New music takes my breath away. 

i didn't know i could be part of such beauty. 

    Hadn't seen that coming!

 

Sometimes a slow calm,

others an intense rapid,

always with perfect purpose,

    steady and intent on His great plan.

 

    i will follow

    i will follow

    i will follow.

 

Read with me. Proverbs 3:5-6.

Have you ever read it in the Amplified Version?

 Lean on, trust in, and be confident in the Lord with all your heart and mind and do not rely on your own insight or understanding.

In all your ways know, recognize, and acknowledge Him, and He will direct and make straight and plain your paths.

Deep with richer understanding. 

Would you join me in memorizing it from the Amplified?

A song to sing each morning and as often as we are tempted to

choose another beat.

 

Related articles

Following Jesus: Finding the Rhythm

Got Dinner Plans?

So what kind of cook are you?

via bellishboutique.typepad.com

Tonight I scanned through my blog... the one that I used to post regularly on,
before i lost my rhythm, that is.

As I looked at old posts, i felt melancholy. I miss the sound of keys being tapped with words and thoughts pushing their way out.

Some are planned and sketched out earlier in the day in a tattered journal.
Some emerge as if magically seeping through the ends of my fingers.

I miss the thought of you,
reading me and maybe seeing yourself, even just a little.

I miss that rhythm.
I need that rhythm,
again.

I hope to find it, but even now as I write tap these words I realize that i will likely never find it,

rather I must make it.

ARGH! Sounds like "New Year's Resolution" type stuff, doesn't it?

For tonight, I am reposting a recipe I posted in May and was totally inspired to make again. Soon.
It was scrumptious and is just the perfect way to keep healthy eating goals easy and do-able.

Click on the link at the top of this post for the details.

Hope you enjoy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

thanks...
i'll be back!

1000 pulling things

my head spins this morning

1000 things to do,

pulling me round and round.

 

i even feel it in my chest

    a tightness

    constriction

    beats are more intense and rapid than normal.

 

Your Presence pulls as well.

but i'm tmpted to resist because the 1000 things pull fierce.

demanding!

loud and compelling.

insistent.

 

Your pull is gentle.

a request riding on kindness.

soft - even whispered Words call.

a felt and powerful pull

yet leaving me the choice.

 

i have to purpose to breathe slowly and deeply

and when i do,

Your peace rushes in to spaces that were tight and crowded.

i respond to the gravity of Your love,

falling helplessly into Hope

and You re-set the jammed up pieces

into an order that leaves me space to breathe.

 

my heart still rushes but now with a love-crush kind of excitement.

aware of Your deep, intimate love for me.

Your immediate, pulling Presence

enveloping me in Peace.

 

i can do today.

Luke 10: 38-42

faith yoga: how to go from couch potato to marathon runner

 

she told me i have strong faith.  it must be a "gift".

it surprised me.

i don’t think of myself as strong.  my faith feeling fragile at times.

        aren't we all about the same?

 

God gives some the spiritual gift of faith, 

but all are given a measure of faith.

we all start with capacity.

with some faith muscles.

 

so how do we get more faith?

how does faith become stronger?

not in an instant.

faith is not gained by swallowing a magic vitamin.

there is no couch-potato-to-marathon-over-night-plan.

but there is a way to go from the couch of

faith-less, fear-ful, worry-fat lounging 

to renewed strength. 

to running and not growing weary.

to a faith walk that is strong.

sustained. enduring. maybe radical.

 

we know this already.

        that we are a little pudgy around the middle.

we look in the mirror that God’s Word is.

we see Truth and when we don’t like it - our state of faith -

    we desire change.

    we want to have stronger faith.

    we consider the cost and commit to the process.

 

we change some habits.

- cut back, (eliminate!) the junk food.

    empty calories that are delivered in steady doses

    through images and words our culture bombards.

    faith-poison, sucking from our spirits the ability 

    to see the unseen.  believe the impossible.

 

- we approach the Tree of Life and choose to eat from it daily.

    Words of Truth.  Hope and destiny.

    living words that strengthen us.

    we are empowered and spiritual eyes are open

    when we feast on what is sweeter than honey.

 

- our appetites change.

    now distasteful, we discern the toxins once consumed,

    (even craved), without thought.

    now we crave His presence and His Words

    and faith begins to be delivered to once weak cells.

        we must start at the spiritual cell level because faith cannot grow if the spirit is sickly.  

            thinks wrong.

 

- faith, like a muscle, must exercise to be strong.

    so we stretch.

    reaching for what sits beside us does not encourage faith to grow. 

            instead it becomes atrophied, cells shrinking.

    we reach for what is beyond our grasp

    and soft faith muscles  l e n g t h e n.   we gain range of motion.

we repeat and grow more confident that we can reach further next time.

 

- faith must not only stretch but be strengthened.

    there are times to lift. to push. pull. walk. run.

    resistance becomes our friend. 

    a difficult season and the struggle of challenge 

    gains endurance.  and muscle. 

    we don’t always fight against it, but learn to fight with it.

        let trials work perseverance into us.

 

- and we breathe. 

    we recognize we must sustain a rhythm of sustained,

    super-natural breath.

    we breathe deeply the Holy Spirit -

            very breath of God.

    our own, human-powered breathing always insufficient.

    we must have the super-natural or eventually we collapse,

        gasping under the suffocating weight of self-reliance.  

        it sucks the air from us.

 

- finally, our body knows, (our spirit too),

that rest is essential.

    even at the climax of a deep stretch we give in to it.

        a sort of deep relaxing into the pose,

        allowing muscles to learn a new range.

        memorize a greater potential.

    so there is rest even in the midst of work.

        in the moment of effort.

        we rest in His power.  His ability.  His plans.

    and there are times of rest between workouts.

    our faith muscles are renewed 

    by stillness.

    and quiet.

    only while sitting in the presence of our great, healing God.

        warm oil poured over tired muscles, His Spirit a balm.

            and we are restored.  replenished.

            our faith grows stronger.

 

this gift for all.  each of us given enough faith 

to take some steps:

desire.  

commit.  

eliminate.  

eat.  

stretch.  

strengthen.  

breathe.  

rest.

 

 

join me friends?

 

this is a lifestyle.  not an event.   

and i need some more work-out buddies.   

 

Psalm 19:10; Psalm 119:103; Isaiah 40:28-31; 1 Peter 1:6-7; James 1:2-4; 

 

does faith hold on or does faith let go?

 

is it faith-less to lay down the vision?

to not only let it die, but be the one

to pile stones high,

bind the promise and lay it atop?

to raise my own trembling hands,

gripping a cruel, cold blade?

 

will i plunge it if He asks me to?

Can i take the ready flame and set to fire the future i’ve been so sure of?

 

if i kill it, does it end?

is this suicide?

    because it is now part of me.

 

i guess i’ve thought faith only holds on to something.

tenacious.  unfaltering.

a fierce hold in the face of adversity and impossibility.

i’ve always seen faith’s posture as upright.

standing tall and strong.

resolute and determined.

 

until now.

until my own journey of faith has taken me - 

    - is taking me -

to a mountain of sacrifice

where my God asks me 

to take what He has planted deep within,

and offer it up.

    a sacrifice.

    a death.

    a laying down.

    a letting go.

 

wood, fire, knife in hand.

He calls me and i am climbing to the mountaintop.

a higher place of experiencing faith.

 

i’m watching Abraham.

he’s been here before me and he teaches, shows another way.

he tells those traveling with him

that he climbs this mountain to worship.

    worship: here, to bow down low. to prostrate oneself.

 

he climbs high to go low.

he declares “we will come back to you!”

his intention to obey - unto death.

his expectation to return - unto life.

    faith. holding on to the promise.

 

   only death produces life that lasts.

    .think Jesus.

 

he searches and gathers stones.

each is set in place and an altar of worship is being prepared.

i hear him as he wrestles with how this makes sense.

 

and i know that as he builds this table fashoined for death,

he reasons and he remembers -

    Who God Is.

    and What He Can Do.

 

his faith is emboldened as he obeys the absurd.

eyes are on God.

    not the promise.

    not the vision.

    not the future.

just God.

 

i learn -

    - am learning -

that sometimes faith does stand firmly, not letting go.

and sometimes faith lies prostrate.

the knife of obedience poised to plunge.

the altar of death a place of worship -

    a declaration that i will fear God and revere Him 

    more than any vision, hope or promise.

 

Faith perhaps must do both to force her roots to grow deep and take hold.

so here on this mountaintop of death i am finding life

and i am gaining a deeper experience,

a truer knowing of

Who He Is. and What He Can Do.

 

 

so to you, dear friends, who are traveling with me,...

 ... we will worship God and then we will return to you.

on the mountain of the Lord, it will be provided.

 

Genesis 22:1-19 & Hebrews 11:19

 

how to start & end the day. 2 simple bookends to hold your days up straight

 

“You hem me in - behind and before... all the days You ordained for me were written....”  Psalm 139: 5, 16

 

    ... each starts with morning and ends with night.  

    bookends, framing the in between moments.

   volumes of pages written by my God and

    walked out in various scenes,

    my choices somehow part of the plot.

 


  

 

my alarm jolts me to the beginning of a new day

and it begins like this...

a picture forms in my head

 and then my heart.

 

coffee fueled, detailed lists form and mark the beginning of the day.

waiting for the satisfaction of a line marked through.

 

    today I will    ___________

                        ___________

                        ___________

                        ___________

 

I fill in my calendar,

neat and tidy slots hold my plans and expectations.

 

line by line i have it all filled out.

rigid, straight, calculated lines.

 

    Some days follow my outline,

    some do not.

 

“In his heart a man plans his course but the Lord determines his steps.” Proverbs 16:9

 “Do not boast about tomorrow for you don’t know what a day may bring forth.” Proverbs 27:1

 

and it ends like this...

darkness signals closure to the days potential.

i search a black ceiling for my God’s face,

considering how hands sped past hour marks

and hardly believing another 24 are gone.

 

        how can i bear my shortcomings?

        how do i accept what was left undone?

        how can i adjust to what He allowed?

 

sleepiness threatens and soon delivers then-

just that quick

• the jolt
• the cycle
• i start again.

 new cup of coffee.  new list forming.

 

it’s been my pattern for oh-so-long

sometimes marked by peace, sometimes not-so-much.

but He reminds me,

and He draws me

back to a better way ...

the secret to starting and finishing each day.

bookends that keep the words of my life standing straight,

held together, not toppling.

the plot becomes a poem.

 

“I proclaim Your love in the morning and Your faithfulness at night.”  Psalm 92:1-2

 

when i do, i walk through each moment between

    with peace. with purpose. aware of His presence.

 

i proclaim His love in the morning...

i acknowledge and declare He loves me and when i give priceless first moments to contemplate this alone - i can trust His goodness and care for me, regardless of what will come.  His unmerited love is the absolute foundation for peace.  

a starting point for His plans.

before i leave my cocoon of sleepy comfort i say, “He actually and fully loves me!”

 

i breathe in deeply,

filling up with all the hope and possibilities His love creates.

 and i praise - the natural exhale of love.

 

 

i consider His faithfulness at night...

on my bed, eyes still search,

but rather than a black, faceless ceiling,

i see my God in multiple moments of the day.

the awareness of His presence and His gaze on me 

pulls my eyes from worthless pondering -

        what i missed,

        what i messed up,

        what might have been.

 

last conscious thoughts are of His goodness,

His beauty,

His faithfulness

and i end as i began.

 

breathing slowly and deeply...

 and i praise - the natural response to His faithfulness.

 

2 simple bookends that hold the days of my life upright

and make a beautiful poem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

how to live in boxes ... contemplations on moving.

i am living in boxes.   [why do we say, “living in boxes”, let’s be real -  that would be so uncomfortable.  we don’t actually live in the boxes, right?]

 

i am living in boxes.

       focused on the past,

        living in the loss

        the memories

        the end of this dwelling place.

 

 no garden is being planted

        empty beds of dirt wonder where springs seedlings are.

walls stand half naked

        unsure why some places have been stripped of their adornment.

        another bears a stack leaned against it

            waiting for a big enough box.

cupboards hold essentials only.

        they won’t contribute to any more parties,

        no cake stand, trays, glass pitcher, silver rimmed dessert plates.

        they’re not in sight.  

        wrapped and layered in last weeks news.  stacked and waiting.

 

just the basics.  

    a utility existence, for now.

 

i am living in boxes

       focused on what might be

        living in the future,

        the unknown,

        the possibilities,

        the hopes and the dreams.

 

“without a vision the people will perish”.

 

i’m planning next year’s garden in a new plot of earth,

collecting paint chips and dreaming in color,

arranging furniture in my head and imagining coffee in hand as i sit and ponder,

    face toward the windows.

        embracing the view.

            the vision.

 

yes, i believe we must have vision 

and it‘s essential to dream and hope and believe.

but i know that living in boxes is cramped and uncomfortable.

        and i cannot reach

            or grow 

                or run

                    or dance

                        or maybe even see God at all,

        if i am living in the boxes of what was or the boxes of what may be.

 

 

in contemplating how to live in boxes,

        because they really are here

        and i really must keep packing

        and i really am moving,... eventually...,

God opens His words to me.  

Here is where i find myself this morning...

 

How lovely is Your dwelling place,
    Lord Almighty!

My soul yearns, even faints,
    for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh cry out
    for the living God. 

Even the sparrow has found a home,
    and the swallow a nest for herself,
    where she may have her young—
a place near Your altar,
    Lord Almighty, my King and my God. 

 Blessed are those who dwell in Your house;

    they are ever praising You. 

Blessed are those whose strength is in You,
    whose hearts are set on Your Ways. 

As they pass through the Valley of Weeping,
    they make it a place of springs;
    the autumn rains also cover it with pools, (blessings). 

They go from strength to strength, (increasing in victorious power),
    till each appears before God in Zion.

Hear my prayer, Lord God Almighty;

    listen to me, God of Jacob.

Look on our shield, O God;
    look with favor on Your anointed one.

Better is one day in Your courts
    than a thousand elsewhere;
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
    than dwell in the tents of the wicked.

For the Lord God is a sun and shield;
    the Lord bestows favor and honor;
no good thing does He withhold
    from those whose walk is blameless.

Lord Almighty,
    blessed is the one who trusts in You.

 ~  Psalm 84

 

 and so this is it.... how to live in boxes...

 

the blessing is found in where i am dwelling.

not in “boxes” of what was or what may be,

        - the home i am leaving

        - the unknown home i am going to

but in My Father’s House - His dwelling - His presence.

 

my heart is set on God’s Way.

        the Highway of holiness.

        a pilgrimage of walking His paths.

 

 

As i pass through - transition - this valley of weeping,

i choose to make it a place of springs.

        i hear the water-song as it bubbles,

        and feel cool splashes on hot, tired feet,

        taste its sweetness and drink my thirst away.

 

i look around and i am choosing to live with boxes...

 

and while living with boxes piled around me,

i “will go from strength to strength”.

        - ever increasing victorious power -

            (not something accomplished living in a crowded box)

 

and once out of the box i look up

       and see Him

       and there is no where else i’d rather be

           than living in Him.

 

Got Dinner Plans?

 

 

So what kind of cook are you?

Do you plan out your menus for the upcoming week?

or month?

Then you shop for all the needed ingredients.  Know you've got - what you'll need for each meal?

Or, do you have a general idea of what you'll likely make for dinners then tweak the plan as needed?

Or do you just roll with it, living and cooking spontaneously.

        "What do i feel like making and eating tonight?"

 

Of course this type of cooking style depends on what you find in the fridge and cupboards

to work with.  It can result in some lackluster dishes but also force you to create some

unexpected and amazing meals.

 

I'm mostly the last cook described.  In fact, some of my best meals are born from this model.

 

Recently i was without any real plan for dinner and 4:00 blared large on my kitchen clock,

reminding me it was time to figure it out.

Opening the veggie bin in my fridge, the organic chioggia baby beets i had picked

up at Life Source, in Salem, spoke to me.

Not a whisper, like other veggies tend to do,

    (fennel bulb, spinach and handfuls of freshly picked herbs), 

but a boisterous, beefy, begging to be scrubbed, roasted and fashioned into something wonderful.

I, of course, happily obliged.

 

Here is what i came up with.

Roasted Beets & Sweet Potatoes on Greens with Balsamic and Fresh Goat Cheese.

                                    I know, the name is a little long.  Sorry.

                            

Even if you find yourself a bit shy about beets, 

 (think they taste like dirt and earth minerals?), you should give these a try.  

The roasting mellows them. The sweet potatoes calm them,

and the creamy tang of goat cheese counters.  

All these intense flavors find a neutral bed of mixed baby greens to be the perfect platform.

 

Roasting Ingredients:

- 8-10 chioggia, baby beets: peeled, end cut off and cut into wedges, (4-6 each)

     (fanciful chioggia beets show alternating red and white rings when cut horizontally) I've     also made this since, with regular, full sized crimson beets.  They take a little longer to     become tender, so be sure to cut them smaller and adjust your cooking time a bit.

- 2 medium-large sweet potatoes: peeled, and cut into large bite-sized chunks

- 3-4 cloves fresh garlic: smashed, peeled and roughly chopped, (like 3-4 pieces each)

- 2-3 Tbs. Olive Oil

- Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

                                    

Dressing Ingredients:

- 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

- 2-3 Tbs. good balsamic Vinegar

- 1 tsp. honey

- 1 Tbs. water

- dash of salt and grind or two of pepper

The Rest:

- Mixed baby greens

- 2-3 oz. fresh goat cheese

 The Method:

- Preheat oven to 400*

- mix the beets only with half the olive oil and a little salt and pepper, tossing to coat. 

- spread evenly on foil lined, rimmed baking sheet and roast for about 20 minutes.

    (adjust time for 'adult' beets)

                                     

- meanwhile, toss sweet potatoes with remaining olive oil, garlic and salt and pepper.

- add to beets after they've got their head start, (20 minutes), stir and continue roasting for 30 minutes.

                                    

- Stir again and roast another 5-15 minutes, until all veggies are fork tender, but not mushy.

                                    

- remove from oven and set aside to cool slightly.

- while they are roasting you can whip up the simple balsamic dressing.  just whisk all dressing ingredients in a bowl until they emulsify, (oil is no longer separate from other ingredients)

Time to plate!

- lay a generous bed of mixed greens on each plate,

   top with warm roasted veggies,

   drizzle balsamic dressing over and

   top with fresh clumps of goat cheese to adorn it all.

 

the goat cheese will become soft and creamy as it rests on the still warm roasted veggies.  

this is divine!  it serves about 3-4.

 

View From the Back of the Motorcycle

 

Sunday.

it's warm and dry.

late afternoon sky drama

draws us to the motorcycle.

 

every time we first head out and start to gain speed on open country roads

my grip around him tightens slightly.

i'm not really afraid -

    - i fully trust Mark's riding ability -

but i always offer prayers,

    asking for protection.

 

this time i can't stop.

    flash images of trauma.

    imagination camped on a crash.

i keep asking Him to keep us safe.

    NO crash!

    NO brokenness!

    NO injury!

    NO pain!

 

beauty rushes by me -

    - or i realize i am passing it -

without seeing, feeling, experiencing.

i'm lost to "what if's" 

and a focus on self-preservation.

 

        a field offers sweet warm scents of early spring clover.

        a baby calf chases after a late afternoon meal.

        bird ballads, tractors humming, the swoosh of leaves as we whiz past.

i'm brought to the moment and realize that

only in the risks will i find the rewards.

 

we lean left then climb steeply and as we slow for another bend he hollers back,

    "now get ready for this!"

my grip tightens.

we crest the next pavement wave and my breath is stolen.

    demanded by the view.

        lush green valley below.

        Cascade mountains far.

        patchwork fields and farmsteads between.

i give myself fully to the experience.

    what i see

    and smell

    and sense,

only mine, with the risk of pain riding alongside.

    the speed

    the turns,

    the thrill.

miles back i stopped asking God to keep us safe and pain free.

 

from the back of the morotcycle He has reminded me

    that with great risk is greater reward.

    that He knows the road we're on.

    that He has planned a great ride.

i need to hold on tightly.  trust Him,

turn my attention away from fear and self-preservation

and experience the moment.

see the beauty and enjoy the ride.

 

*i wish i had photos to offer.

but my camera sat at home, and i was holding on!

^__^

 

 

Cocoa Date Nut Bars, UPDATED technique...

 

Have you made these yet?

they're gluten free, grain free sugar free, guilt free yumminess!

soft.  slightly chewy.  packed with protein, fiber, antioxidants.

a subtle sweetness naturally from dates and coconut and of course the rich cocoa always seems to make my heart sing.

yesterday i just needed these Cocoa date nut bars and on a whim made a simple change to the prep steps that tastes the same, but i kind of like the look of them better.

silly?

i don't know, i guess because i'm artistic i find myself influenced by color, pattern & shape.

I like the shapes of these better now...

discs?

flattened spheres?

what would you call them?

give them a try.....

 

btw, watch for my next recipe post, an amazing salad with warm roasted beets and sweet potatoes.