Praise Break!

 I've been looking back over the things I wrote on this blog between 2006 and 2013. Two things have struck me about my writing:

1. I don't feel like I can still write like I used to.

I think it was because I practiced, which reminds me that I just need to start writing again.

2. I was lost and I was proud of it.

The answer to the 2nd point lies in the resounding grace and mercy of God's redemption. It is amazing that God called me back from that place of floundering, irreverent doubt. There is a post where I used lower case "g" for God and upper case "F" for fate. I was thumbing my nose at religion, flaunting my rebellion. I quoted from philosophy and the Tao de Ching and Richard Dawkins. I got a tattoo on my forearm to celebrate myself. It is a man with a walking stick, standing on a path under a waterfall. To me it represented how I had found my own way. I embodied what Paul wrote to Timothy about below.

"For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine and accurate instruction [that challenges them with God’s truth]; but wanting to have their ears tickled [with something pleasing], they will accumulate for themselves [many] teachers [one after another, chosen] to satisfy their own desires and to support the errors they hold,"  II Timothy 4:3 Amplified Bible

The truth that I refused to see was clear to others. Gil, who was a Buddhist, told me that I would find my way back to faith again. Carol openly scoffed at my claim to be an atheist. Others, secure in their own doubt and defiance of God, congratulated me on my "free thinking" and wanted to hear how I had arrived at these conclusions. Between the lines of my writing, in numerous emotional posts, it is clear that I was missing something. I wrote so many posts about how unhappy I was, then apologized and blamed it on my infertility, or my period, or something else.

Today, I was walking the dogs in the snow on the mountain, and spending some time with God. I'm learning something really powerful about quiet time with God. I don't always know what to say when I'm praying. I used to come to God with a formula. Follow the pattern set forth in the Disciple's Prayer (commonly called the Lord's Prayer). Or I would come to God with a list of everything I wanted. I think that God is happy to hear from me, and I'm not saying there is any right or wrong way to pray. But today, and many times, when there is something on my mind, I needed to start with praise. 

This week we read Psalm 148. The Psalmist makes a list- mountains, hills, fruit trees, cedars, wild animals, cattle, small creatures, flying birds, and many more. He simply exhorts everything and everyone that exists to praise the Lord. Praise the Lord. What a good place to start when you're not sure what to say!

So that's what I did. 

"Praise the Lord, you snow-covered hemlock trees! Praise the Lord, you blackberry bushes hanging over the trail! Praise the Lord, beautiful bright blue sky!" 

That praise entered my soul, and suddenly I knew what the rest of my prayer was. 

"God, I trust you." 

I remembered my list, my parents who are sick, loved ones who need to be saved, my 11 year old who got written up for standing on the chair and running out of the room Friday, my questions about how to best serve God. 

"God, I trust you with my list. I know you're going to do what's best." 

My heart was filled with peace.

Our praise is so powerful! Praise truly opens the gates of heaven.

Tualatin Hills Nature Park

Spring is Here! (not technically)

It was a lovely, sunny day here. Buds are out on the trees. Spring flowers are blooming. Folks are eating lunch at sidewalk cafe tables. I had an iced coffee.

My ink was finished yesterday. After about two hours work, I have a lovely piece of artwork with deep meaning for me.

Life is good.

Rose

Escape From the City

As I sat sipping my latte this morning, it began to snow. Delighted as a child at this development, I decided to go for a ride. It snowed huge flakes the whole time I was on the streetcar. Later, when the train emerged from the dark tunnel, the hillside was covered with snow, fluffy flakes sticking to the firs.

I got off at Tualatin Hills Nature Park and walked down the path into the forest. It had stopped snowing, but the day was dark, with scattered raindrops falling. A doe and her year-old fawn stepped out from the trees to browse on new leaves emerging from dry shoots. The stark white belly of a brown creeper rivaled the face of the black-capped chickadee as the brightest spot in the dark wood. A ruby-crowned kinglet flitted about, acrobatically dangling from the underside of the branches. The marsh wren, with it's striking eye stripe danced along the boggy riverside.

As I admired the chest-jutting song of the winter wren, the sun broke through, sparkling off the new raindrops clinging to the branches. I lowered the hood of my jacket, delightfully drinking it all in.

Rose

IRFD- Barely Flipped

I sat on the train home from the city late this afternoon, thinking about how it was the second annual International Rock Flipping Day and I still hadn't flipped any rocks. I snapped this shot from the bridge.

When I got home, I realized that the dying light didn't give me long to flip, so I headed down the blocked off, dead-end, city street we live on to search for rocks.

I came to this rock-like barricade, much too heavy to lift, but sitting on lots of limestone.

I flipped a few small rocks and was disappointed by fallen leaves. Then I turned this rock over and found ant larvae and this vaguely snail-like looking creature

Another large pile of manufactured rock on top of more rock. If you watched long enough you might see something crawl out of the cracks here. I only saw candy bar wrappers, crushed aluminum cans, and the ashes of a forgotten campfire.

I turned back before heading up the lane to snap this shot of the waxing moon shining over the Willamette River. By now, the bats were swooping in their erratic arcs, a garter snake scurried across the cracked macadam looking for a hole to hide in, and the street light glowed the same pink as the last rays of the fading sun.

Rose

International Rock Flipping Day 2008 (links)

Rock-Flipping Day Reports

Pohanginapete (Pohangina Valley, Aotearoa/New Zealand)
Blaugustine (London, England)
Nature Remains (Ohio, USA)
Pensacola Daily Photo (Florida, USA)
KatDoc’s World (Ohio, USA)
Notes from the Cloud Messenger (Ontario, Canada)
Brittle Road (Texas [?])
Sherry Chandler (Kentucky, USA)
osage + orange (Illinois, USA)
Rock Paper Lizard (British Columbia, Canada)
The Crafty H (Virginia, USA)
Chicken Spaghetti (Connecticut, USA)
A Passion for Nature (New York, USA)
The Dog Geek (Virginia, USA)
Blue Ridge blog (North Carolina, USA)
Bug Girl’s Blog (Midwestern US)
chatoyance (Austin, Texas)
Riverside Rambles (Missouri, USA)
Pines Above Snow(Maryland, USA)
Beth’s stories (Maine, USA)
A Honey of an Anklet (Virginia, USA)
Wanderin’ Weeta (British Columbia, Canada)
Fate, Felicity, or Fluke (Oregon, USA)
The Northwest Nature Nut (Oregon, USA)
Roundrock Journal (Missouri, USA)
The New Dharma Bums (California, USA)
The Marvelous in Nature (Ontario, Canada)
Via Negativa (Pennsylvania, USA)
Mrs. Gray’s class, Beatty-Warren Middle School (Pennsylvania, USA)
Cicero Sings (British Columbia, Canada)

Via Negativa has the complete description and link list for IRFD. Thanks for hosting, Dave!

Urban Wilderness

The two women with dogs passed me seemingly effortlessly on the uphill climb. The path leveled out and I caught my breath and pulled the apple I had brought for breakfast out of my bag. As I finished the apple and tossed the core far over the steep, forested slope, the trail wound upwards once again. Disheartened at the prospect, I turned back for the easier return trip. I was attempting to photograph a flashy, orange turks-head lily when I heard a loud, high-pitched chattering. I looked up to see the unmistakable red crests of several pileated woodpeckers on a far-off tree trunk.

~

Somehow the morning was magically transformed in that single moment. My nostrils were filled with the pungent, earthy aroma of the forest floor with its decaying leaf layer. The sweet, clear notes of birdsong filled the air, relegating the sounds of traffic to a distant, forgotten land. My eyes drank in green in shady tones and sunlit tones. Even the warm morning air, which had already caused me to shed the light jacket I had worn, seemed to soften; stirring the leaves and cooling my face.

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By the time the trail turned to limestone and the traffic noise began to crescendo again, my morning walk had become full of the magic of this wild place, so close to the city, and yet so far away.

~

Rose

A Rainbow View

Four Seasons

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When we lived in Miami, it wasn't uncommon for people from back home to wonder if we didn't miss the four distinct seasons. The time I missed it most was autumn, but there was still a distinction, and my biggest gripe with southern Florida was always the unmitigated heat. The Oregon coast was a much more temperate climate, and I had the impression of seasonal change more there.
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It is only this spring, and now summer, that I have realized just how much the seasons have been absent in the last five years. The landscape seems to have changed completely since the trees leafed. I have had my tree guide out indentifying the types of deciduous trees that make up the fantastic avian habitat outside my balcony. And of course, I've had the bird guide out, identifying its inhabitants.
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Today, I sit on the balcony with my kitty friend. She divides her time between lolling in the sun and fantasizing about hunting my feeder birds. I sit in the shade reading or sipping coffee or just
drinking in the fluffy cumulus, the bright blue sky reflected in the river, the oak and locust and maple and ash, the grosbeak and finch and siskin and warbler, and the gentle breeze.
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Rose

Gingko

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I took this picture of wild gingko growing in a local park a few weeks ago. After working an extra day last weekend, when I really wasn't feeling well anyway, I feel like I could use some of it's reputed energy. I looked at the calendar today only to realize that the whole week had slid by already. I have been busily planning the details of my summer vacation. I'll be meeting Robin and A.E. in Boston for a week on Cape Cod, then heading for Mother and Father's in Pennsylvania, where Mr. Clean and his brood will be visiting.
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I'm also pulling out a summer wardrobe that I have had no need for in the three years since we moved from Miami. We had a record-breaking high of 97 degrees here last week, but it's been overcast and cool since.
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r connors

South Park Blocks

Greening

Bigleaf Maple Acer macrophyllum

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I've been watching the bigleaf maples blooming and leafing since we arrived in Portland. Finally the green is covering the hillside across the river. Today I sit on the shady deck in a tank top, a kitty lolling in the sunny patches and birds coming to the feeders and the blossoming madrone. Maybe later I'll do something. Not now.

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rc

Marionberry- Word of the Day

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Before we moved to the left coast, I had never even heard of marionberries. It is now time to write about them. Based on three years of research, I now feel qualified to say that anything with marionberries in it is the food of the gods. I came to that conclusion today based on the divine marionberry cobbler with vanilla bean ice cream at our local McMenamin's Pub. The rich, fruity, currant-colored substance of the cobbler is unbelievable. The ice cream melts into the steaming cobbler, tempering it's decadence, and making me wish it could go on forever.
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Marionberry.
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Rose

Partly Cloudy, Partly Blurry

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I made a more thorough exploration of Sauvie Island today. It rained off and on, making it a relatively good day for seeing birds. Unfortunately, all I got are these mostly pretty bad pictures of common birds. I was grateful for waterproof shoes as the day's trails led me through tall, wet grass and mud at times. A kind of rainy day has another advantage: you great the great outdoors virtually to yourself.

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An enjoyable, relaxing day.

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Rose

A Perch

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I've wanted a bunk bed ever since Mr. Clean and Big M had one growing up. I had to share the full size bed with either the Baptist Nun or Robin. We never actually did much sharing, because the Baptist Nun found me unpleasant to share a bed with. I remember her often sleeping on the sofa. I found every opportunity to sleep places other than the bed. I slept on the floor beside the bed both by choice and because I fell out of bed. I made a secret corner between the bed and the dresser. I had to climb over the headboard to get in, and I would sleep and read in my private space. I slept curled up on top of the dresser more than once. After the Baptist Nun went away, I was the one who didn't like sleeping with my little sister. I slept on the sofa for a while, but when we tore out the big furnace in the basement and put in a smaller coal stove, there was room for a little cot next to the wall. It was small, but I didn't have to share it. I loved to sleep on top of the triple bunk in college. I left the sheets and blankets neatly tucked into the outside edge and slept all the way against the wall so the hall monitor wouldn't be able to tell I was still in bed at room check in the mornings.
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We've been idly thinking about getting a bed for the second bedroom for a while. I wanted to put our bedroom in there, but it just isn't big enough for the king size bed. We want somewhere for people to sleep when they come visit us, but I also think I would sleep better in that room on the days I work, since it's quieter and darker than the master bedroom.
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The problem is that we have too much stuff. We've had plenty of storage space in our previous rentals, and there is room for everything here, but not much extra space for a bed. I finally stumbled upon the obvious answer today: a loft bed. They come in all shapes and sizes. I had decided we only had space for a twin bed, but a loft will allow us to have a full size bed with plenty of room for storage below.
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I wish I knew how to do woodwork so I could make my own. Of course that would be just another opportunity for the unfinished projects that I'm famous for.
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rc

Complaining about a Fine Day

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I had a perfectly nice day yesterday, riding the bus around the city, walking up one thousand steps to the top of Mt. Tabor to see the view, dodging a semi-solid rainstorm downtown to catch the bus, lugging my camera all over the city and not gettting a decent shot to show for it. That was the good part, and I enjoyed it immensely. (Really, I did.) I also had a pretty nice time at work, despite a co-worker who treated me like a ten-year old ignoramus. It was the drive home this morning in rush hour traffic that so colored the preceding narrative. Can you call it a drive when you don't go anywhere? Can you call it the freeway when all you're free to do is look at the bumper of the car in front of you? That's what I call parking on the parkway, making sense of a nonsensical word. My natural impatience causes me to take the first exit in those circumstances and drive in circles on the roads noone else is using before finding another crowded road to wait on. Well, that's enough of my griping for now. That's temporary sleep deprivation talking. My apologies, dear readers.
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r. connors

Nature Sunday

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I visited some local parks this afternoon in search of birds, flowers, and fresh air. The grey day quickly turned sunny as I wandered nature trails, breathing in the fresh, earthy smell of spring. At Kelley Point Park, people walked their dogs on the river beaches and fished from the shore. Smith and Bybee Lakes was atwitter, with multiple species of swallows swooping over the lakes and bright Audubon Warblers flitting through the trees. A sudden burst of wind and rain sent people scurrying for their cars, but the birds seemed to know that it would soon pass, and so it did.
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rc

Camassia

Pacific Madrone

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I went for a walk in the Camassia Natural Area, near the hospital I worked at last night, after work this morning. The botany and geology of the place is breathtaking. Despite being up all night and being a little cold, I was entranced by the solitude and natural grandeur.

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Rose

Multnomah Falls

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I only worked a partial shift last night, so I was up in time to go for a day trip up the Columbia River Gorge today. It was sunny and warm, and traffic was light, and the scenery was amazing; we stopped for a picnic lunch before leaving town and ate outdoors. I even learned some new Portland streets today.

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Rose

Washington Park

I snapped this shot near the Rose Garden earlier this week. Snow was seen in Portland today, although all I saw were a few snow pellets. We had a lovely day, a home-cooked meal tonight, and the place is getting more cleaned up every day, although boxes are still stacked all around. The trillium are blooming in the little gulch near the condo. I'll try to get a shot later. I'm off to work in the city for the first time later tonight, so I'm suppressing the little butterflies that want to flit around my stomach.

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Rose

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Didn't work after all. Got cancelled. Try again tonight.

rc