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Leftover Thoughts after Vacation

Genesis

When I explore new places, I see so much beauty in the Earth that God created.  When I am still and submerge myself in these natural surroundings, I cannot help but be in awe of the subtle differences in landscapes and waterways.  I have always found peace in quieting myself and wondering about our creative Father ever since I was a child and ventured into the woods or the farm I lived by.  This world is beautiful underneath all the ugliness that man has created by his own fleshly nature.  My quiet place is anywhere that I can be still and notice the clear brooks, green hills, or feel the soil between my toes…..soil.  Just thinking of that alone, the gritty odor of soil and the way that it shifts and molds under my feet, whether it’s sand, clay, or peat.   The feeling of coolness from shaded soil or the hot sand that you quickly walk on that is exposed by the blazing sun.  How God took something filthy and created humans to have relationships with.  Yes, by our very nature we are dirty, yet God sees each of us sprouting, growing, and blooming to the potential He created us with individually.  Distinctive differences on numerous levels, each with different markings, characteristics and traits, yet similar enough to know that our origin is dirt.  Only God can take something so grimy and shape it into something pleasing and necessary to its environment.

Revelation

When I sit on the ground, whether it’s a mountaintop overlooking a valley or on a beach with my feet in the sand, I want to remain there forever.  My soul is quiet and I feel God’s presence around me.  Remain….that’s a word that I don’t think of often, but to remain means several things, look it up in the dictionary and think about each meaning. Synonyms of remain are abide, stay, wait, tarry, rest, or endure.  That word also makes me think of this scripture “Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me.” John 15:4.  My filthy self, needs to remain in Christ if I want to be productive and fruitful….if I want to live to the fullest potential of what I was created for.  I can’t do that on my own, severed from Christ.  I’ve tried before and it doesn’t work, I wither and become dry dust without Christ. Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.    abide

I wonder, as I view turquoise skies, emerald seas, and chocolate mountains, how much greater the eternal kingdom will be with a remaining known presence of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  I used to be scared of thinking about life outside of this world, but when you remain in Him, it’s a paradise we cannot truly fathom.  It has to be a stillness we’ve never even come close to feeling even on our highest moments on Earth.  A place where time doesn’t matter, harmonies float in the air like the wind, and worries are non-existent.  Paradise….if I remember the vine and stay attached to it.

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Posted by on July 6, 2018 in Spiritual Reflections

 

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Ode to My Creator

viewfromspruceknobOh how beautiful our Earth is.

Oceans, rivers, springs and streams dress it with blue ripples.

The waters calm my soul when I gaze over those endless bodies.

God splashed the shades of blue onto His canvas of Earth to delight mankind with the soft touches of cool refreshment.

The rains of the Earth remind me that God’s love washes over me continuously.

When storms dance on the waters and cause my heart to fear, He whispers in the wind and I remember that He’s with me and that the storms won’t last forever.

God constructed the mountains, hills, and crags with great views of boundless land filled with vegetation and animals.

I am at awe when I stand at the top and feel the breeze move through my soul.

The climb is never simple, you wonder if you will ever reach the summit.

I peek over the edge and look at the walk that God encouraged me to continue.

The reward is great with perseverance.

Some days and nights, I lay on the cool Earth in great wonder of my God, the creator.

God fills the skies with various brushes of clouds in the day.

Sometimes the clouds are thick and heavy with little light passing through.

Other times the clouds are soft splotches with bright light bouncing onto the earth.

While at night, He sprinkles the sky with stars to dance in the moonlight.

Oh how majestic our Creator is.

 

 
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Posted by on April 22, 2018 in Poetry, Writing

 

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December Day

You send shivers up my spine,

While blanketing the ground

with soft cotton kisses.

Some love you,

while others loathe

seeing you dance silently from the sky.

Yet, your initial covering

is so pure,

a frozen backdrop.

Time stands still for a moment.

Is it because of the chill in the air

or the beauty you leave behind?

 
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Posted by on December 12, 2017 in Poetry

 

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Exposing Beauty

Adjusting the focus through the eye of his lens
He captures beauty of God’s creation.
The Earth poses silently as the sun rises
Awakening a new day,
A day of new possibilities,
A day of discovering something that was unseen before.
He takes a deep breath before pressing the button
A beautiful image he doesn’t want to miss.
Snap…… perfect exposure.

 
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Posted by on May 6, 2015 in Poetry

 

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Words from my Fingertips

Time for Five Minute Friday

Go……

Write

It’s funny how today’s five minute Friday is the exact word I was hoping for.  The thought must be in the atmosphere, bouncing between like minds, pondering the reasons we peck on the computer.  I write because it is an outlet for me to say what is on my mind.  I write to throw thoughts, daydreams, opinions, and my heart on a visible surface so that I can go back and see what I’ve come from.  I write because it gives me a voice that I’m afraid of using when I’m around others.  I write because for some strange reason it brings me peace.  I write because I am in love with words.  I write because I want words returned to me.  I write because I want to be completely honest with my emotions.  I write to be sincere.  There is power in words, in writing. 

 

I began writing in a journal when I was ten years old.  My grandmother bought a diary for me.  I scribbled in it and admitted who I had a crush on or why I was frustrated with my parents.  My grandmother kept a notebook by her bedside, she scribbled in it as well.  Her handwriting looked like chicken scratch. 

 

Stop

But beauty came from the words she scratched down.  Her heart was poured upon that notebook.  She would often speak of what she did for the day, such as shopping, visiting people, and church.  But, she would also talk about her concerns with her children and grandchildren.  I think her journal was visible letters to God, it was like David’s psalms in the Bible.  My grandmother didn’t have much of an education, she made up for it through the huge heart she had for her family and others.  I miss my grandmother, but I thank God for all that she taught me.  She taught me to love, she taught me power in words, she instilled the love of writing in me. 

 

 

<a href=”http://lisajobaker.com/five-minute-friday/&#8221; title=”Five Minute Friday”><img src=”http://lisajobaker.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/5minutefriday.jpg&#8221; alt=”Five Minute Friday” title=”Five Minute Friday” style=”border:none;” /></a>

 

 
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Posted by on October 4, 2013 in Writing

 

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Tailor of Love

This morning I was leafing through some old poems.  I decided to share this one.

 

“Tailor of love”

He knows every stitch of me

because He created me.

He knew my layout

before I was pieced together.

He’s the master

and we’re His piece of art.

He measures us with careful consideration

Seeing the end design.

Each is relevant for different purposes,

thoughts, and placement.

 

The artist looks to Him

for He is the ultimate creator.

We are the apprentices

to His initial beauty.

He inspires us to inspect the details;

To improve upon the flaws.

He carefully tailored small details

In each of us where there is no matched replica.

Each stroke of color was meant for His light to shine through;

To reveal to all who were meant to be

His most loved creation.

 
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Posted by on February 8, 2013 in Poetry, Writing

 

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