Observant

 Sometimes I am too observant. Seeing more than is needed to function on a daily basis. I know as we age: sixty plus, we can all bemoan our lack of focus and concentration. 

For instance, I am heading to the garage freezer to dig out something for dinner. On the way I observe a pile of weird something on the floor of grandson #1's room. I hurry in hoping the cat did not once again "play" with whatever reptile or amphibian is living in a not quite cat proof habitat. Turns out to be a soggy sock and a few random sticks. I nose around observing dirty socks, empty chip bags, dishes and silverware. Holding my prizes all in one hand I wander back to the kitchen to throw away the trash. Traveling to the laundry room, again, I deposit the soggy sock and other smelly clothing items I had observed in the bedroom. Trudging back to the kitchen I pass the boys bathroom,  I observe the spigot is dripping and the rugs are balled up in a damp mess. Back to the laundry room, thereby observing the dry clothes in the dryer and the wet ones in the washing machine. Toss the clean dry into an empty clothes basket. (deal with that later) I put the wet stuff into the dryer, even remember to start the darn thing.

 Garsh darn it if I'm not weary.  I sit at the bar in the kitchen, sipping hot coffee, wondering what the heck to make for dinner

Designed

 By design. 

Genesis 1 &25. 

 1. In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.

25. And God made beasts of the earth according to their according to their kinds and the livestock according to their kinds and everything that creeps on the ground according to its kind. And God saw that it was good.

Since the beginning all the creatures of the earth God created; He was pleased, and saw them as good. Creation, all of it was created by design. specifically, individually. Every detail. Every limb. every wing. Skin, shell, fur, eyeball(s), organ and bone, for a purpose, distinctly for the good of the creature.

I began to write earlier today. I was all dried up. I thought I was headed in a good direction and then mu brain froze and I was done. I am frustrated by the format of the blog program I use. My fingers are like caged rabbits set free. Darting every which way but the intended key. 

On
Fridays I read over some of the other posts and I think, what am I doing here? Polished, professional blogs with advertisements, links, and all sorts of flowery pictures and such. 

I know I am a writer. I have bee told many times by teacher and friends. 

My writing is raw. Messy.  strewn with random thoughts. Stemming from my life lived. I cannot get much pecked out in five minutes. I spend that much time correcting my typos. 

I want to be a part of this community. I want to write. the Five minute friary format provides me with a bit of accountability.

I believe I have an audience. One looking for a way to muddle through the ugly of life. Emotional abuse. Difficult children. Absent husband. 

My strength comes from A Jesus I know. Not because I have diligently pursued him, but because He has never in my darkest days, left my side.

By design. Here I am today. Plodding through a difficult time. A addled brain and a brokeness of a new sort. 

Jesus. Always present. Always near. Placed me in a group of writers that challenge me. Thank you for your unknowing support and pressing in. A stumbling writing soul. Declaring His righteousness. His Love. His design to place us in the right place in His mysterious timing.

Fresh Five Minute Friday prompt

   Fresh

Earier today I was outside attending to my horses and chickens; oh and one lone barn cat, (who's prodding provoked me into delivering him the  inside cat's more expensive better tasting kibbles). It was then i noticed a surprising green. All else dried and crunchy, swirling, blowing, with the icy wind. I had decided to drag my frozen deck furniture closer to the house, thinking I might later tarp it. The bright green held my eyes. So out of place this time of year. Yet there it was nestled under a forgtten glass side table and a broken down wooden crate. How could all of summer be brown and dead, whilst here hidden from the elements, green plants blossomed. Not blossoming, but alive and green. 

Often around this time of year, maybe expecially this year, the outside seems lifeless. Summer so distant, its warmth forgotten. At least myself, my insides seem to shrivle and dry up. I plead for the Lord to give me fresh vison. Fresh hope. My love to come alive. To brighten my soul and affect others to see His fresh grace.

So this morning the lord provided a peek into His freshness, available to me if I look a little harder. The green was safe from the bitter winter, close up to the house, perhaps sensing the warm on the other side. Wise enough to shelter beneath a sturdy shelter.  

Plants and trees and such have been used throughout the bible to point  to a lesson God wanted us to learn. Outside my bedroom window there is life. Sheltered. Protected. Lord, may we huddle close to your warmth. Tuck ourselves into your holy spirit. Covered by your unfailing love.