This was great, Jonathan. You reminded me that when I write, "something is made in me." I'm more aware of God's involvement in my life, and my story is more vivid. I engage with the person God made me to be and his gifting, so I feel alive, like I was made to write. And when it's hard to write, and hard to finish and edit, I don't have to interpret that as a sign that I'm failing. The more consistently I write and share the writing, the more I sense something is made in me. Thank you.
I have been reading Caussade's Abandonment to Divine Providence with the Renovare spiritual formation book club. Caussade's premise is that when life happens to us, good or bad, it's an opportunity to recognize God's work in us and the world around us. It's also an opportunity to more fully surrender to God's will for us. It sounds like that was what happened to you in your garden. Good job! I'm hoping to be able to make this mental shift today for one thing. Thanks for the inspiration.
Thank you, this was encouraging. Especially as I spent much of this morning pulling monkey grass out of my flowerbed, knowing that it's laughing at me and saying, "I'll see you tomorrow."
This piece filled me up with both beauty and longing-- the beauty of seeing a "well-wrought urn" and the longing to be better at the craft/task the Creator lovingly assigned me and called "writing." Of course writing is work. A garden doesn't grow by itself. Only weeds do that. So I was glad to be reminded that when the garden grows, I grow.
Ooh, I was just talking to my wife about this (sort of). One of my recent labors of love/hate came out of my son's accident with a shower faucet handle, escalating from the cartridge to the valve to the pipes to the wall itself. It's taken much longer than I could have anticipated, and many days have passed without a clear picture of what to do next or how to accomplish it.
Now that I'm just about finished, though, I commented to Katie that if this sort of thing were to happen again, I would have 100x more confidence in what to do, what NOT to do, and how to make sure the job is done right. There's a delight in the finished work, but also in the growth of one's own view of the world.
This was great, Jonathan. You reminded me that when I write, "something is made in me." I'm more aware of God's involvement in my life, and my story is more vivid. I engage with the person God made me to be and his gifting, so I feel alive, like I was made to write. And when it's hard to write, and hard to finish and edit, I don't have to interpret that as a sign that I'm failing. The more consistently I write and share the writing, the more I sense something is made in me. Thank you.
I just love this. So easy to side-eye what looks to be the fast lane everyone is traveling in. Let’s take the slow, narrow way and not miss anything.
I have been reading Caussade's Abandonment to Divine Providence with the Renovare spiritual formation book club. Caussade's premise is that when life happens to us, good or bad, it's an opportunity to recognize God's work in us and the world around us. It's also an opportunity to more fully surrender to God's will for us. It sounds like that was what happened to you in your garden. Good job! I'm hoping to be able to make this mental shift today for one thing. Thanks for the inspiration.
Thank you, this was encouraging. Especially as I spent much of this morning pulling monkey grass out of my flowerbed, knowing that it's laughing at me and saying, "I'll see you tomorrow."
This piece filled me up with both beauty and longing-- the beauty of seeing a "well-wrought urn" and the longing to be better at the craft/task the Creator lovingly assigned me and called "writing." Of course writing is work. A garden doesn't grow by itself. Only weeds do that. So I was glad to be reminded that when the garden grows, I grow.
Ooh, I was just talking to my wife about this (sort of). One of my recent labors of love/hate came out of my son's accident with a shower faucet handle, escalating from the cartridge to the valve to the pipes to the wall itself. It's taken much longer than I could have anticipated, and many days have passed without a clear picture of what to do next or how to accomplish it.
Now that I'm just about finished, though, I commented to Katie that if this sort of thing were to happen again, I would have 100x more confidence in what to do, what NOT to do, and how to make sure the job is done right. There's a delight in the finished work, but also in the growth of one's own view of the world.
I stopped Southern Living several years ago when I realized I would never have a patio without leaves in it.
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