Warmth and Healing

Just a little warmth and healing and some good perspective on a few items was all I needed. With great humility I am thankful for this luxury that is not always tangible for some of my dearest loved ones who could also use the time away. I returned home to set myself once again to the task of caring for a child who is not my own flesh and blood but to whose heart I am deeply attached. Among other responsibilities that require much prayer and planning, I am ready to begin anew.

 

A few bits of joy and gratitude:

 

 1757. for other posing options when the nicely standing family one doesn't turn out

1758. large shadows cast on my path from huge birds soaring overhead

1759. how this guy is still at the pond at our spot where we stay

1760. how this lovely bald eagle hung out on this Norfolk Pine by the pool the entire week!

1761. spotting salamanders and other lizards

1762. how everything that moves catches his attention

1763. the way he surprised us all and picked up the binoculars and even tried to memorize a few bird species. (We'll make a bird-nerd of him yet!)

1764. the boy who really got everyone interested in bird watching to the degree we are now

1765. how he made "beaver dams" out of all the pool noodles each day

1766. the way the anhinga dries his wings all spread out for a long time and how his big body perches on tiny branches

1767. his basketball tricks

1768. how he went (when the girls were too shy) to get us a couple of pink lemonades

1769. how a bird can look so different when you see him straight on :)

1770. volleyball at sunset

1771. how this scene is never ever the same

1772. how one minute they look so tall and the next, they're scrunched down low

1773. how she will still get up early with me (after all these years) and go shell seeking

1774. the annual scorpion tilt on the beach 

1775. for this tower that took us waaaay above the tallest trees (and swayed in the wind!)

1776. how she became more serious about birding this trip and asked for a book like her siblings had

1777. how she not only kept track of what she saw but drew diagrams

1778. for the Celery Fields

1779. how younger eyes are a blessing during some serious hunting

1780. this relationship

1781. how she has no fear of heights (praise God!)

1782. how a man laughed nervously when Oliver, at 76 feet said, "Mommy, is this really only made of some wood and some bolts?"

1783. how you'll walk across moving, jiggling suspended bridges when your kids have crossed them first :)

1784. when going down is fun too



 1785. how God's creativity actually overwhelms me at times and leads me to worship Him

(black-necked stilt)

 1786. when we were afraid he was no longer around, the "bugle man" began playing
"Taps" once again at the sunset on the beach-everyone cheered

 1787. how they race each other in the pool (house rules, of course)

 1788. how Molly wins and always surprises herself

 1789. how he asked me to score his dives over and over again

1790. the ocean

 

A Few Favourite Moments From the Fall

Just a few favourite moments that I didn't get a chance to blog since September...

at the beach

Valerie's Immigrant Women's Short Film screening

Nancy, who runs the maternity home so lovingly

Congratulations, Valerie, on your short film that made your few hundred attendees think long and hard about the struggles and blessings women face when they enter a new country. Praying God's will for you in 2015 as you find out if you will stay in Canada.

Evenings On The Beach

The old man with the WWII bugle faithfully blows out "Taps" as the orange globe sinks into the sea. A crowd has gathered 'round to celebrate the awe of a sunset that seems just a little more miraculous in this place. Perhaps it's because we're all so relaxed that we appreciate it more or perhaps it's the tradition of the "Bugle Man" playing each evening, directing us to gaze westward. Whatever the reason, I worship the Creator more readily when I feel I can reach out over that big ocean and hold the sun in my hands for a little while. We dance long on the beach and bend to pick up some valuable pieces of the Great Blue's gifts and turn them over in our palms until there's not even a faint glow of the sun to keep us warm. Then, it's dusting sand off our feet and cozying up with sun-kissed children inside, only to wake up and do it all over again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So very thankful.