flourish...

On Art Attempts to Imitate LIfe

2010-08-30T10:04:00.000-07:00

Some nights

I plop in a chair

grab the fine point Sharpies

and doodle away on a crazy, colorful graphic.

I love this kind of art.

It’s fun, easy, requires no brainpower.

Whatever happens happens.

And when I’m done people say,

“ That’s cool. What is it?”

Here’s something I had fun with last night

And then there are other times-

not as often as I’d like-

when I go to the trouble to set up my paints & canvas and

practice

representational art.

It’s what most people like.

When you’re done they say,

“ Nice tree. What made you paint that one?”

Call me skitzo—

but I’m drawn to both

improvisational

and

representational

art.

The kid in me likes unstructured play

while the adult in me

likes trying to capture a scene with my own two hands.

Where does this desire to copy come from?

Maybe it’s as simple as a craving to recreate

or to experience the beauty in a deeper way.

Maybe it’s the challenge of it

or something about the composition of the elements.

Here’s some of my recent “adult” work.

Not long ago I passed this tree on a walk in my neighborhood.

It was behind a high wall but the smooth, flaky crust-like bark grabbed my attention.

I stood looking up at it for a long time wondering if I could do it justice.

Then I clicked photos on my phone and put it in a file I have called

“ potential painting subjects.”

Earlier this summer

I picked up this leaf

when we were walking on a railroad track in Georgia.

It had dropped from a tree and was already changing colors.

Almost looked like a croton. I liked the challenge of the detail.

And painted it as soon as we got in from our walk.

Found this funky piece of wood on that same hike

and laid it next to the finished painting to see how it'd look.

This next one is a patch of water -weeds

I took a photo when David and I were kayaking on the Wekiva River.

They were in a giant tight mass in the water.

I’m sure they have an official name-dollar wart or something.

They're everywhere in Florida.

Not as pretty when they mess with your yard.

For this I used cheapo 8x10 canvas.

Took maybe 4 hours or so.

For a first pass, I like how it turned out.

Making this kind of

art

reminds me of all my attempts to honestly, accurately

capture the image of Jesus

in my own life,

to represent Him well.

I hope to make a life that reflects a reasonable likeness—

where the viewer says,

“ Oh, I see. Jesus right?”

That's my desire. By all accounts I’m far from mastery.

Still-

grateful the Teacher doesn't chastise my sketchy imitations

but patiently, continually, lovingly encourages…

Keep practicing, Caron.

More light, more contrast, more depth, more truth.

If They Only Knew

2010-08-22T14:22:00.000-07:00

See this truly innocent, frightfully young, love-blinded couple?

It’s Friday night, August 22^nd 1975

and they have no clue.

Well they have an idea, but that’s about it. The idea they have is that their meeting, which led to these holy vows, is all part of a giant conspiracy and that somehow they are destined for something but at the moment- exactly what- is beyond their capacity to grasp…

They hope they might do some good in the world for God.

It may be a long shot.

These are strong-willed- slightly rebellious types-

Jesus People to the core.

He is a partially reformed hippie.

She is good girl from a dysfunctional family.

They are both firstborns.

They’ve known each other one year. He popped the question-suddenly- New Years Eve - week 8 of their relationship. They were eating a steak dinner at the picnic table on the back porch of her parent’s house. He had no ring. Had not come planning to ask. But with his steak half eaten, he’s overcome and bursts out, “I’m sorry. I just gotta ask…Will you marry me?!”

She laughs.

On the first date she knew.

They’re students with part time jobs. They’ve scraped together 900.00 for dresses, tuxes, invitations, flowers, rings, photography. What the photos don’t show: the Church Ladies have made the bride’s dress and the essentials for the simple, old fashioned, Southern, stand up, Fellowship Hall reception- cake, punch, egg salad sandwiches and all. They are Baptist-so no DJ -but there is a nice pianist in the corner playing something considered appropriate.

It’s no frills.

The bride thinks yellow is a happy color and maybe people won’t notice the miniature floral arrangements if she chooses loud yellow fabric with giant flowers on it for the girls. Hats are in for weddings this year.

He’s wearing gray because black is what everyone will expect him to wear.

They’ve written and recorded song based on a Psalm.

It’s playing over the sound system as they kneel.

He’s on the piano. She sings.

It won’t be a hit-- but it’s them.

In the months leading up to this they’ve interviewed mature, Christ-following couples in their church with solid, happy marriages. They take notes. They say up front divorce will never be an option. They have promised never to use the word -even jokingly. It’s the long haul or not at all. They read marriage books, study the Bible and pray together out loud. They believe they have what it takes.

They’re going to need it.

They say anyone can tie cans to the back of a car that reads “ Just Married.” They want their getaway to make a statement about the kind of people they are and the life they plan to live. So a helicopter drops out of the sky onto the 13^th green of the golf course just across the street.

Here the bride is discovering there are no doors on the helicopter. Another cost cutting measure? Is this a sign?

As they fly into the night they have no idea that next year, along with deep, life long friends, world-class mentors and 4 am discipleship groups, poverty waits. At seminary there will be times they have no food except oranges someone leaves in a bag on their porch or money someone slides under the door.

But they’re eating wedding cake now

In the blink of 2 years they will bring into the world

the first of what will- in 9 years -be three baby boys.

And in hopes of instilling a strong spiritual destiny

they name them after mighty biblical heroes.

Among other things they don’t know tonight

is in 4 years together they’ll be called to a country they’ve never see to plant a church in an school gym with 5 couples they’ve never met. Surrey, British Columbia. As far as the east is from the west. This will turn out to be one of the most defining seasons of their lives- eternally marked by enormous amounts of leadership, faith and steadfastness required to see several hundred people come to Jesus and form what will become Village Hills Baptist Church.

Nor do they know their hearts will shatter when they’re uprooted after 4 yrs there by a crystal clear call to go home. They will sob, grieve and argue with each other for months over this. Yet there’s no denying the Voice. They will leave the people they’ve love like family- pack their 2 pre-schoolers & a two week old in a 1983 Chevette and drive to Orlando.

If they really knew on this day ALL that would be required of them

next-

they might have declined to go.

But they cannot know--

and surrendered they go to ultimately carry the burden and blessing for what will over two decades become thousands of lives before God, hundreds of staff, several facilities –preaching the Good News of Jesus, leading the people of Discovery Church-- in season and out—by the truth of His Word and the power HIs Voice year after year after year.

This joyous night

there’s no comprehension of the trials that will send them to their knees. A newborn’s cancer, financial crisis, friendship implosions, funerals of both their mothers, ministry disasters that become legend

Oh and they will have more than their share of side splitting laughter, unbridled happiness and crazy love –they will comment on the undeserved richness of their lot almost every day.

But there will also be arguments some lasting for days, a few smoldering for weeks.

They ‘re on the same page right now

but she doesn’t know he’ll easily get bored, itching to change things particularly in the church and he doesn’t know she brings to the altar a debilitating fear of such changes that will surface at almost every critical transition he wants to make. He’ll say she’s holding him back, she’ll think he’s hasty, needs more facts.

She will be late…a lot.

He will -at times-speak without thinking, say things in public for shock value

He’s a maverick, a loose canon.

She’s insecure, sensitive.

They’re backgrounds are night and day.

Some wedding guests don’t give them much chance.

But the vows they’re making anchor double deep.

And they will love each other passionately.

And serve God in their generation.

Though clueless about them now, the three sons

born to them will bring the greatest joy

they’ll ever know, the deepest satisfaction and at times the most acute pain.

They will love these boys fiercely, train them faithfully and fail them humanly. But today they’re planning to make the best family possible by the grace of God. What they can’t know now is when it’s all said and done it will indeed be a mighty good one. And in time the boys will have weddings themselves and with great joy and a little trepidation they’ll expand the circle to include their godly wives and then the six remarkable grandkids they will give them.

This young, idealistic couple would laugh and cry

till they ache

if on this night you tell them

one day they will be

married for 35 YEARS (!)

live in two countries, three states, four apartments, one townhouse, six homes – travel to or teach leaders in over 25 countries, write books, he will nearly drown in the Zambezi River, she will lead worship for thousands, he will preach to hundreds of thousands, take off and land on an aircraft carrier , they will own something called personal computers, snow ski, wakeboard, sail, hike in Alaska, be on television, radio and something called the Internet, take movies of their grandkids on something called a cell phone--and literally walk where Jesus walked…

AND

in the

12,701 days they will be one

Jesus Christ -their Lord- the One

they are surrendering this

as yet unknown marriage , family and mission to

will have faithfully carried them all the way

Ah, if only they knew.

How much bigger might they dream?

How much fuller might they trust?

How much deeper might they love?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And now- for the 35^th consecutive year…

husband of my youth…

oh Captain my Captain…

in the presence of God our Father and these witnesses…

I pledge my heart to you alone….

for as long as we both have to live.

This is a big one.

Happy Anniversary, Honey!

You make my heart sing!

High Five!

The still happy couple, this August 22, 2010

at Discovery Church

Foot Notes for Real World Travelers

2010-08-19T19:48:00.000-07:00

Even though we’re petrified of bears,

snakes, ticks, spiders and wild boar,

had no proper shoes

or a clue what we’d find;

this summer David and I managed to do a lot of

walking around in the woods

of north Georgia

This was all pretty much his idea.

But I was game because I had a plan to trade the required exertion for certain

after-dinner carbs.

Our simple daily plan:

*See map for medium difficult trail

*Top off water bottles

*Spend two or three hours at the mercy of nature

Now on a trail, when you’re not mopping up sweat or

tripping over roots

or looking for the port-a-potty

you have considerable time to think.

And I got to thinking about all the ways hiking is like real life.

1) It helps to have something to lean on.

Awhile back I broke my ankle and ever since it’s not as reliable on uneven terrain. So we found a dead branch with just the right heft and made me a walking stick. I leaned on it in the uphill’s and it steadied me going down. Was like having an optional 3rd leg. It got me where I needed to go with a little added assurance.

In the real world we don't much like asking for help

or leaning on people.

I especially don’t.

But after this experience I’m wondering:

What’s wrong with needing a little help?

Do we really think we get some special award

for making things harder on ourselves than they need to be?

2) You have to stop moving to see where you are.

The trouble with hiking is you spend most of the time looking down. For reasons of self-preservation this is necessary.

However by doing this- you miss considerable scenery-

which, in my opinion, is the

WHOLE POINT

you’re in the woods to begin with.

So every now and then (sometimes to David’s dismay) I stopped hiking.

I mean -are we in a race here? Is someone timing us at the top?

I sat on a log

Took pictures

TTT

caught up with my breath

sipped water

surveyed the view

smelled the air, savored the sounds

and all that quiet

Watched light stream through the trees

And then I was ready to go again.

3) There will be bugs.

Even drenched in repellant, we still got bugged on the trail. They sensed our sweat, buzzed our heads and at certain points drove us batty. Funny how they always seem to attack at the hardest, steepest parts when all you can do is put one miserable foot in front of the other. You whine. Swat the air. Yell, exasperated, at these deaf, demonic creatures.

But they do not care.

They have no heart.

They are not moved.

There will always be bugs on the trail.

Get used to it.

4) The weather may change.

Twice it rained on us in the middle of a hike. We were too far from the car to run for cover. Of course we had no ponchos. We could hear it coming from a distance pecking at the leaves-- sounded like water rushing through a stream getting louder and louder.

We didn’t expect it to rain. We got soaked.

Trudged in mud and soggy socks the entire rest of the hike.

But it did cool us off.

5) Forgo the cargo.

Don't ask me why- I love rocks. I have them sitting in bowls and baskets all over my house.

I have rocks from Africa, Israel, Colorado, California, British Columbia, The Virgin Islands, Greece, France, Italy, Turkey… I need a bumper sticker that says

I STOP FOR ROCKS.

On the trails of north Georgia I hit the mother lode.

But rocks get heavy when you’re hiking.

To keep it doable, at least semi- enjoyable I learned not to pick them up too early or too often. Too many rocks slow you down and wear you out.

I think it’s important you know, I left some really great rocks on those trails.

6) Sometimes it takes longer than you plan

and feels harder than you can stand.

On one of our first hikes we don’t have a map. We just see a sign that says “ This way 4.5 miles” and go for it. Piece of cake.

Joe, Catie and 1yr. old Miles are with us.

We hike up and down and around this mountain for what seems like a really really long time and start to wonder is this trail is ever going to end. The baby gets heavy. Joe’s back hurts. It’s late in the afternoon. Maybe we've taken a wrong turn.

Time and distance get weird in the woods.

So how far do you think we’ve come? Surely we're almost there-

what if some joker switched the sign and we’re really on the 10-mile trail?

It's easy to question a path you've never been on

especially if you’re right in the middle of it.

You have no idea what's over the next hill. You’re hiking blind.

We’d set out for a nice little walk in the woods. Now we’re thinking- rescue helicopters. We should never have come to the woods. The fun drains out when worry sets in. All you can think of is getting to the end where you know it’s safe.

A tad bit anxious we send David ahead to look for the trail end. He likes this. It’s starting to feel like a disaster movie where in a last ditch effort the stranded people draw straws to send one poor soul for help.

But we do have cell phones.

Call us as soon as you see it, we say.

(* you could kiss Steve Jobs at a time like this)

Joe, Catie, Miles and I keep on walking. No one talks. Everyone’s in their head. Once in awhile the mother in me pipes up, “Guys, I’m sure we’re fine. Time just feels different in the woods. I’m sure it’s totally fine.”

20 mins. go by- feels like eons.

Finally. The phone rings.

Yes, folks, you’re on the right trail.

You are not lost.

Just keep walking.

Why Make the Bed

2010-08-18T11:17:00.001-07:00

It occurred to me today there might be a whole lot more in this ancient act of housekeeping than I've given it credit for. I know the military, nuns, Quakers and all manner of Martha Stewarts have sung the praises of order for centuries. But other than the feeling of " there now, that's done" I've been making my bed for almost 5 decades on auto-pilot, oblivious to it's transcendant potential to lighten my internal load.

Now you should know I am decidedly and contentedly an unstructured girl

who thinks nothing of dishes in the sink, driving without a destination and living life without a plan. I've been lost in thought for hours, come at most things, if not backwards, at least sideways and if you drop by unannounced on certain days you'll see I also have no argument with an unmade bed. So what I'm about to say does not come from compulsion or perfectionism.

I think I've discovered

one of the best things I can do for my soul each day

is make my bed.

As a child I was disciplined to make my bed immediately upon rising, and never, under threat of punishment, was I to sit, sprawl across or in any way disturb it until bedtime. This is probably the reason I recall making the bed only once our entire first year of marriage.

But today I sensed a shift. Saw something new in the act. Actually felt a kind of glory in this old, simple ritual. There came a deeper purpose in all the tugging, measuring and straightening that went into setting this sacred space right.

Because much of the stuff of our lives gets twisted in a wad, comes at us disheveled, distressed - beyond our ability to control--

it just seemed to me a beautiful, soul soothing thing to hold in my own two hands

the complete power to smooth out the wrinkles, regain the symmetry and restore

at least this one tiny corner of my world.

In other words-

All else may be undone,

but at least my bed is made.

Something. Anything. Nothing. ( Or What We Did Different this Summer Vacation)

2010-07-18T11:26:00.000-07:00

This year we added a little something extra to our vacation

It was a simple daily rhythm David practiced on his pilgrimage to Israel.

The only schedule

we were encouraged to follow involved

three things:

something

anything

nothing

Something…

was to be an intentional, quasi- scheduled event,

done alone

with a group.

So needing something to do,

one afternoon we hiked up Amicalola Falls,

6 adults

with 3 children

under 2

Perhaps he's seen too many adventure movies?

Can I get a hoo ha?!

Buoyed by this feat a certain person not especially known to be outdoorsy

birthed a search for more remote, calf-cramping trails, which then required trips by same to the

local North Face store for proper maps and a suitable back pack equipped with -

I kid you not- -

the same hydration gear used by the US military.

Later, to entertain ourselves on the drive home to Florida this person bought a book on thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail called a Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson and had me read aloud for 10 straight hours

...but I digress

At times something was an appointment to steal a kiss

Or you got a hankering for a good page turner

Once, something was class 4 rapids for the guys

countered by lunch and spa-hhhing for the girls

You should also know there was a picnic

that had to be sherpa-ed down the mountain

babies and all

to a splendid

sweat inducing, mosquito swatting spot

After dinner we sat around as the sun went down,

to enjoy 2 parts laughter to 1 part conversation,

loosely but intentionally structured to help us unearth

important somethings on our hearts---

Once something included a sweet afternoon

lapping up a sparkling lake

some of us...

literally

Anything…

was an individual choice to do

whatever you thought you’d enjoy

especially if it involved

a daring whim.

perched on the balcony I read poems

and pulled out my paints

to capture the mountains

and a leaf I found on a trail

Joe and Jon kept a fierce foosball tournament going,

complete with some serious trash talk

about their mama.

Another anything for me

was doing what I love

dreamy wandering

through the tiny town where we

discovered a beautiful interiors store

Gatewood Hall/Gracious Home

And some of us dreamed

we could do anything

We especially liked the idea that food qualified as an anything

Actually

food

came up a lot in this category

And a few of us liked the idea of getting to eat

anything

we wanted

David’s anything always involved the luxury of reading

any book he could get on his ipad

always with his feet propped up.

But doing

Nothing

was what we all liked best

With nothing to do we had plenty of time

to get our walking in

even if it meant after dinner

down the train tracks

It felt good to stand around

doing nothing

A lot of our nothing had to do with magazines

Seems the more we did

nothing

the more we got playful

It just felt great having nothing to do

and nowhere to be

So we hung around

together

just doing a whole lot of

nothing

because nothing makes the most fun

Mostly

we accomplished our

nothing

with the help of rocking chairs

gazing out at the hills

being lulled by the sound of the river

"Summer afternoon... summer afternoon...

the two most beautiful words in the English language.”

Henry James

Easy Beachy Summer Decor

2010-06-19T12:33:00.001-07:00

At some point most summers you'll find me reading something fun under a breezy umbrella at the beach. Because we live in central Florida its an easy drive to either coast, which we have ritually done every summer for as long as I can remember. But this year we're taking a detour to the north Georgia mountains with two of our sons and their families ( in fact, I'm supposed to be packing instead of posting as we speak!) Now I AM looking forward to our trek north, hoping for cooler weather & a change of scenery but there's still nothing that says SUMMER! like shells. And since, this year, I'll be staring at vistas of peaks and trees instead of seas, I've designated several spots around the house as "beach retreats."

Above are two looks on the same tray. In April I found this small air plant on a walk in the woods near Seaside, Fl & bought the other at a local nursery. Air plants are awesome. They are truly no maintenance. The nurseryman told me about once a week to just run them quickly under water then shake off the excess or mist lightly. (Better to under water these. Thus the reason they're called air plants :) The sand color stone is from Namibia, brought home to me by my husband, David on recent trip. (When he travels I tell him all I want him to bring me is a rock. But we'll talk about the crazy thing I have for rocks in another post!)

Maybe you're like this too, but I can't help myself around shells and beach rocks. Just last week I brought more home from a 2 hr picnic dinner on Cocoa Beach. As we walked David was good to store my best finds in his pockets. All these shells are from years of collecting in Florida, the Cayman Islands, Virgin Islands, Vancouver, BC & thanks to a very special anniversary, the Cook Islands. I put these on an inexpensive bamboo platter but they would look just as great on white ceramic, glass or just piled on the table as is. For contrast I like a candle in the middle. Makes an easy summer dinner party centerpiece.

Change it up with a little green. Try an air plant or pot of mondo grass.

Any vase will do but I chose this skinny one because its such an unexpected shape. Since I didn't have driftwood laying around I used a piece of grape vine I found at Home Goods last year. Works just as well.

Whether you're planning a getaway to the beach, or lake or opting for a stay-cation this year I hope you'll arrange some of your own little summer vignettes to entice your soul to say....ahhh.

If you do, send me a photo and I'll post it here. Now, no kidding... I really gotta get packing.

A Flourish Find

2010-06-18T14:02:00.000-07:00

Found these palm leaves on a walk the other day. They were piled in a driveway where landscapers were about to toss them in the trash. The guys thought I was a bit a strange but gave permission for me to grab a bundle and carry them home. I love this natural look. Makes me feel like I'm on vacation in the Caribbean. ( Which I hope to be in the fall when we celebrate our 35 anniversary!) Just getting a little head start.

Favorites Friday

2010-06-18T07:47:00.000-07:00

Day 3 of my experiment in blogville. I really have no idea what I'm doing yet ( hope its only temporary) but this seems like a journey I should take. Thought today I'd post some of my favorite sharpie doodle art. I always start without the faintest idea ( sensing a life theme?) just a black gel pen, a blank sheet of paper and a certain color palette of sharpies. I like what happened with this one. Took the photo awhile back with my phone ( I know, I'll learn.) Looks kind of like indian headdress feathers/meets cinnamon buns, don't you think?

Have You Got It?

2010-06-17T19:53:00.000-07:00

For me ambiance is everything. It's the impression of a place I absorb, sometimes knowingly, sometimes stealthily, and it has the power to affect my actions, shape my attitude for better or worse. Shadow, light, fragrance, fabric, acoustics, temperature, music and other subtle intangibles all mingle together. An inviting atmosphere is the best reason I'll return to a restaurant, gallery, bookstore or boutique. Ambiance in a worship space has a profound affect on my connection with God. And when a pleasing ambiance is absent from a room, subconsciously I start inching toward the exit.This is Houstons in Winter Park, Fl. It's one of our favorite eating spots. Sure the food is great, but the real reason we go here? The view of the lake, the dark, angled beams, the just right music makes us feel so...you know.Like places, I think people emit ambience too. We give off vibes of warmth or peace, coolness or frenzy. People tune into our frequency and feel captivated or repelled, confused or intrigued, inspired or …just tired.There's a reason people loved to be with Jesus.How would people describe your personal ambiance? If you’re feeling brave ask someone you trust for their impressions. What they say could make a difference in a relationship that's eluding you. I'm wondering where you like to go because the ambiance is just right? Who do you enjoy being with because of the fragrance or light of their life? “…become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked an depraved generation, in which you shine light stars in the universe…” Philippians 2: 15)

Tranquil Places

2010-06-16T15:03:00.000-07:00

There are certain places, spots and spaces that draw our souls out and up where they are finally able to breathe. This spot is one such place for me. Its across town on a little bridge that leads to a one-street island of about nine homes all of which have stunning lake views front and back. A dreamy place. Somedays when I'm in the area and have an extra few minutes I drive here, but on this day we biked and paused to sniff the sweet lake water that always takes me back to being eight and learning to fish for brim off a friend's dock. For me, places near water are essential to capture a slice of tranquility. And in this case the breeze through the low hanging moss off the cypress trees on either side of the bridge also contributes to transporting my soul to a restful, thoughtful place. I wonder if you have a tranquil place and what happens in you when you go there?