Playdates with God: Lonely

These shortened days are full and we have been at church or with our church friends a lot lately. God is always there and He loves us through their hands, with their words. We eat together and it is holy, we sing together and His joy takes wing, we sit and He sits with us. God is always there when we gather in His name.
But it has been in these dark and densely quiet mornings that I have felt the Holy Hand the most this week.
When I look out the window into darkness, despair fills my heart and I am emptied out. The white sky dawns, masking out the winking stars and I am hollow inside. This kenosis leaves me lonely. C.S. Lewis said our best havings are wantings and I feel this truth as I stand on the edge of darkness.
I miss my sister on these dark mornings. I long for the days when we would whisper in the night, sharing heart-secrets and dreaming. I want to call her but too many long years have passed since the hush of our voices gave comfort. I think of my friend—the one who moved away. The one who loved me in all my weird, who understood my crazy. She knew the ways of a heart empty and filled.
I stare at the phone and turn away.
I know these things won’t soothe. I know this ache cannot be sated. I accept this empty for what it is. And even in this loneliness I feel the truth.
I am not alone. 
How about you? How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him. And come tell us about it.

Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us:

Sharing with L.L. Barkat today also: 

On In Around button

Love Letters: A Poem

the way the dogwoods burn
red in the fall
and the maples wave
roasted sienna. poplars
in a state of undress and
the way the hills
flow gold and
gamboge. the way
the wind smells–
all chimney smoke and
rich decay. how the
sky folds blue into
the daylight hours. the
sound of paper leaves,
skit-skit-skitting across
sidewalk.

love letters to
my heart.

linking up to L.L. Barkat’s In, On, and Around Mondays today. Join any day!

Apple Pie for Dinner

We have apple pie for dinner and I don’t care.

It is time. Past time, really.

She is pregnant—heavy with fruit and we harvest late, letting nature have her choice before we do. Some of our pickings have already been tasted by crows or squirrels or another sneaky creature that sat high in her branches and nibbled delicately.These fall easily when the tree is shaken, but Jeffrey has to go after others.I toss the discards over the fence or balance them precariously on the posts– remembering the deer that come to spy.

He is no stranger to the tree and she cups him gently–swaying leaves brushing cheek like a mamma. It was he who wished for her, longed for her until one day he said to me–the mamma who can’t resist planting love, I want an apple tree.

We found a dwarf variety and planted it on the side of the house. Just right for this suburban family.

He remembered the days when we would take our basket to the meadow and fill it with sweet rounds and plump pears and wildflowers along the way. Now the meadow is sold—fenced off– the sweet woman who owned it retiring in a personal care home and her meticulous grasses grown wild and wily up around the trees.



I would never make it on the prairie, I tell Jeff, as I roll and peel and search for the perfect recipe.

He just kisses the back of my neck.

When it takes all day to make a couple pies, who can think about dinner?

We had apple pie for dinner. And I didn’t even care.

Everything Old is New Again…

I have had brain freeze in the posting department lately, my bloggy friends! Partly because I am staying up too late watching the Olympics with hubs. But mostly because my dear Baby has been out of commission for almost a week now!!!

My computer station is at the end of our couch, which also happens to be prime rough housing territory for two very rambunctious boys. My Baby has been knocked off the arm of the couch one too many times, and we are now waiting for express delivery of a new power pack cord for her. Of course, her battery died before I realized she wasn’t getting any juice. So now I have to be content with commandeering the laptop of the two culprits who wounded my precious Baby.

It just doesn’t feel right.

So I’ve had trouble getting in the mood to write.

It’s feels like I’m being unfaithful!

But before I take the two criminals out for an exciting day of school shopping (which starts in a little over two weeks!! Eek!!), I just wanted to let you all know I’m still out here in bloggy land!

The weather has been just scrumptious here in WV; cool nights and crisp days are feeding my longing for fall. This perfectly lovely weather always fills me with expectation…a feeling that something wonderful is going to happen soon.

This is one of the things I love about God’s creation: the ever faithful procession of the seasons. They just keep changing, don’t they? The Lord knows how I love surprises as well as tradition…He has amazingly rolled both of these into the changing seasons. They always change, but the change is so faithful. Do you know what I mean? Am I making sense at all? Even though I’ve experienced fall 39 times in my life, it feels new every single year.

How does God do that?

Imagine all the times you have watched the sun rise in your life. Does it ever cease to give you pleasure? Does your appreciation for this great miracle ever wane? Such beauty that our hands cannot create. Such beauty that our hands cannot hold.

Perhaps therein lays the mystery.

That which we cannot touch, perhaps, will always be new and mysterious. Just like the Creator Himself.

Well, I’m off to enjoy a day of preparation, though I’m sorely tempted to play hooky and head to the park. Maybe we’ll schedule a little bit of that into our shopping plans too.

Blessings, Dear Ones!