artistic inkspiration

Deep and Intimate... Seeking and Finding

2012-01-12T20:12:00.000-08:00

But if from there you seek the Lord your God, you will find him if you look for him with all your heart and with all your soul. Deut. 4:29

So I'm staring at this verse today, after a friend emailed me a devotional with this song, and I realize... it's my birthday, 4/29! Then I searched and discovered THIS video of the same song and I completely melted all over the floor. Barely in the door on this 12th day of the new... searching, wondering, seeking to find... and there he stands finding me, all open armed. My desire for him, is actually his desire for me flowing through me. I've wasted too much time bowing the knee to things, situations, disappointments void of life and breath. Though well meaning... only worthless statues that resulted in zapped energy, weakened foundations, and clouded focus... so I'm smashing some alters. Running hard to leap gently in arms that linger on the other side of the veil. Excavating deeply the heart of the only One who gives me life and leaves me breathless... all in one sweep. Please enjoy this amazing dance... it expresses exactly what I'm feeling... perhaps you too.

This video was uploaded on Nov 2nd (11-2) our anniversary, and I find it today on 1-12....

just one of those"little" things that make me smile!

Threshold

2012-01-12T18:34:00.000-08:00

New Year's Eve, when the clock struck midnight, we poured the Vine and broke the Bread. Red oil burning in the lamp...

A few hours before midnight we decided to take communion at this threshold... of beginning where things end. Centered at the intersection of old and new in intimate exchange with the Divine. Beautiful mystery... this One who is not confined by time or space yet makes the walls of our flesh His dwelling. Who can fathom it. Hand reaching down and pulling us in to His moment and pouring a rich glass of love and sacrifice.

Love... peace... faith... it seems to be overshadowing me for the new year. Deeper love and more communion.

Nestled between the branches

of our Christmas 2011...

Amy's Christmas Bell

2011-12-24T14:51:00.000-08:00

"...I heard the bells on Christmas day their old familiar carols play,

and wild and sweet the words repeat of peace on earth good will to men..."

LOVE... it's the word that's drawing me this season... every where I turn my thoughts are embellished by it... and my womb stretched by the challenge of it.

Pondering deeply a story from last Christmas:

At my parent's for Christmas brunch. We're all eating, laughing and swapping stories.
She's all aglow with the star of Bethlehem...radiating it all the way across the globe to a stable in Nicaragua. My niece Amy, made her list last Christmas and took no thought in checking it twice. The womb of her spirit all swollen with love... the doll she wanted to unwrap was the one bruised and torn... she wanted to mend her clothes and send her food.
She embodied the season's reality... gave up presents she could've received for herself and gave birth to true joy... the authentic kind that comes from letting sacrifice and selflessness tear through the flesh of your own agenda.

For the past couple of years my sister and her husband have arranged vacations and budgets around taking their family to impoverished countries through World Vision. So, at her daughter's Christmas request my sister eagerly got on line and searched through photos of children in need... how does one choose? Eyes that pierce your soul searching to belong.

Instead of choosing the one... the ONE chose her. A little 3 year old girl who shared the same birthday as Amy. Her name was Crisbel, pronounced Cris-Bell.
Like a bell from Santa's sleigh Amy carried her wallet sized photo of Crisbel in her hand all of Christmas morning. Ringing the true sound of the season... like an alarm sounding... waking from slumber only those who could hear it...

"though hate is strong and

mocks the song of peace on earth good will to men"

May we wake from slumber this Christmas and rush to the cradle. May our womb stretch and give birth to love where it was first found. The wise read the heavens... left their own agenda and followed a star. May we look for opportunity to let sacrifice and selflessness lead us down a path of incredible joy!

Amy got to travel to her stable in Nicaragua this summer and meet her Crisbel... take her gifts and wrap her in love.

...Amy with Crisbel's family in Nicaragua.

2011-12-07T23:14:00.001-08:00

On moving toward the end of another year, I'm realizing...
too many moments passed that left me unaware of their beauty and originality. Even the messy ones that seemed ugly at the time. Still learning the art of living life with eyes wide open...

1 ...thankful for noise, laughter, and laundry

2 ...13 yr old son wrapping the drum set in his room with blinking white christmas lights...it totally rocks!

3 ...sharing life stories old and new

4 ...the sound of new songs being created behind bedroom doors.

5 ...oldest son turning 16 this year... brand new driver in the house... the way he looked before leaving for his first dance.

6 ...phone calls from anywhere saying, "I'm on my way home."

7...working together with my mom on a late night project.

8 ...read alouds

9 ...finding forgiveness

10 ...boys talking with a mouthful of food (I'm learning to chill out on this one, who says it's a big deal anyway)

11 ...roller coaster rides, horse back rides and all of us sharing the same hotel room.

12 ...stuff, just the way they left it... thankful for the mess and all those responsible for it.

13 ...a lifetime of "to have and to hold"!

Written Down...

2011-11-30T17:10:00.001-08:00

All the days ordained for me were written

in your book before one of them came to be.

Psalm 139: 16

It's the last day of November (sigh)... if only I could linger a bit on this bed of red and golden... colors that danced to the ground on the breath of their Maker.

Glorious November. The goblet that swirls together spices from two of my most favorite holidays. Thanksgiving... and our wedding anniversary. On Nov 2nd of this year we celebrated our 20th!

It seems our beginning was purposed for the first weekend of November before we even met... thought I would share with you a mysterious page in our love story...

The dinner at Olive Garden...

the long drive to the lake after...

standing on a high terrace and peering over the tops of trees at a sunset sky

and hearing the words "will you marry me?"

We could've probably exchanged vows after our first date. We knew it was right. Especially after he guessed the first few digits of my phone number before asking. Especially after I heard him sing for the first time and the sound of his voice melted everything inside me.

It was November 3, 1990. He pulled me close and on the end of his finger was the sparkling expression of a promise. The one we found in Michael's Jewelers on Broad Street that random afternoon we decided to go diamond hunting and dream about the day we would live together... skin to skin, dream to dream. The same promise he secretly made a first payment on when I wasn't looking.

Clutched in that same hand along with his expression of promise, was an expression from the Divine. A napkin we'd found at least a year earlier in a wedding album at the formalwear shop where I had worked for several years. {A dream job for someone like me... tending tuxedo rentals, helping brides search for their wedding gown and veil... assisting teenagers with prom night...} Anyway...

One quiet night at the shop, Steve was visiting. We were flipping through the pages of a large album of wedding invitations and napkins. He turned a page and glued to the center of the page was an expression that took our breath. Destiny printed on a bed of white. "Jill and Steve...November 3, 1990" All in purple ink!

We could hardly believe our eyes. We had never discussed when... had never even conceived the idea of a date at all.... until then!

Steve secretly planned to propose to me on that day. I don't know at what point he went back and tore the napkin out of the album... I don't care, I'm just glad he did.

There was a full moon in the sky that night with circling bands of light... so beautiful. We had no desire to wait a year. But we loved November and I'd always had a secret desire for velvet bridesmaids dresses in forest green. So the date was officially set for the following year on November 2, 1991.

Twenty years and I am learning incredible love with this man. Yet there are days when the best sum total of our relationship is a coke zero! How is it that in moments of tension, fear, frustration we freely claw and wound the soul of the one whose skin we fit so perfectly in.

The love we made sounded cries through the fields of spring and breathes through the flesh of our sons.

I remember the day in Michael's Jewelers on Broad when we chose two gold bands and a diamond that could never symbolize the buying or selling of love, but would forever remind us of love lost and found... of abandon and rescue... and of the white flame that burns the bed of aging vows. And always the promise from the Divine. Courage and valor that conquerors the villains that threaten. In the end, we win... promised destiny wins out. Eden returns and all things are made new and beautiful! Everything broken is mended! What was intended still exists... it's growing in the womb of our faith to believe.

What is has been before, and what is to come already is...

and every day was written down before it ever began!

~jill

Hope whispers

2011-08-06T13:10:00.000-07:00

A thunderous shower penetrates the open, parched throat of summer's earth. Zucchini bread bakes in the oven. Four mini loaves rise and peak like mounds of earth. Steve's soulful voice singing from a near-by room, and I smile. A deluge of thoughts and emotions flood my soul like the torrent outside. I catch a glimpse of an invitation to a friend's baby shower hanging on the fridge, and the image deepens. It's as though I hear the approaching cries of long awaited hopes and dreams. Today swells, and I feel hope springing from the breast of the moment... the birth of dreams... the birth of infants... and my parent's garden harvesting enough fruit and vegetables to feed a hungry nation. A rhythm approaches... and earth is already yielding to its vibration. I feel anxious. Future is attached to hope, and I can feel its ardent flame. I'm desperate to rush, but slowly reach instead, as if to carefully establish the moment.

I've had "hope issues" in the past. The cold voices of despair have been known to strangle a moment like this until it breathes its very last breath...spewing and hissing in twisted victory over possibility until it lies limp and lifeless on the floor. But here, this time... hope's light is threatening it's dark grasp. Guarding the recesses of my mind, hope jousts against bitter despair. In my dream a couple of weeks ago, Hope was revealed to me as a friend leading the way, pointing toward a path, and giving new direction... she seemed eager for me to follow, as if she knew something I didn't. Once again, in a simplistic moment, I'm pursued by hope's whisper. I will linger... and with each lingering moment hope strengthens. Future is attached to hope. I'm eager to run and consummate the dance.
Soulful melodies peal through the house again, and I smile.
~jill

All my springs are in You...

2011-06-25T19:22:00.000-07:00

I love spring. March and April is full of birthday fanfare and celebration at our house. As daffodils and rose petals unfold, so does the swirling of each of our names through cake icing.

On March 11th, we celebrated our twin sons 13th birthday... they read clues, then searched throughout the town for presents we had hidden in secret places. On the same day, a deep groan devastated the heart of Japan.

On April 22nd, we celebrated our oldest son's 16th birthday. Five days later, I stood eagerly on the deck as he and his dad drove up the driveway after getting his driver's license. Later that same day... a howling gale devastated our home state of Alabama.

It is mystifying at times to entwine our thoughts around life... a road filled with mystery and miracle. The reluctancy to celebrate, for fear of the next devastating blow. I've struggled with it a lot of my life. It's easier sometimes to understand miracle once we see it, taste it, and smell it, but we truly celebrate it when in the midst of the lousiest day we clutch our hands to our bosom and believe that miracle breathes then too. The discomfort that those days bring to our souls help prepare our flesh for the miracle that's getting ready to pass through it. These incredible boys, and their six hands and six feet that stretched and kicked the walls of my womb, are still in constant motion... creating, discovering and finding their rhythm in life. Hands and feet that still burst through the door the first of every spring bringing handfuls of golden trumpet-shaped daffodils just to make me smile. I do not know where the road of their lives will take them, but I do know, that every spring these golden trumpets will unfold and herald a sound, and their petals will leave a trail.

2011-03-05T09:22:00.000-08:00

The dawning season beckons me to an early dance.
Escorted by the sun,
moving with the melody of the wind...
the One who gave me breath, takes my breath away!
~jill

2011-01-01T22:38:00.000-08:00

Signed, sealed, delivered for a brand new year! This year's mail...mysteriously waiting to be revealed!
What remains in secret belongs to the one who conceals it...
but the things that are revealed are ours forever... (from Deut. 29:29)

May 2011 be a year of hidden mysteries revealed,

~jill

Beautiful signs that say "All is calm~All is bright"....

2010-12-23T17:48:00.000-08:00

I miss my grandmother at Christmas... her small house was always aglow with warmth and flavor. I'm not sure she ever left her kitchen during the month of December except to shop and wrap presents. I love how she insisted on all blue lights on her tree and blue candles in the windows. There was something warm and nostalgic about it this year as I drove up her driveway to clip some branches from her holly tree. According to my book of names-Holly means "peaceful". Needing to flood my soul with the "whole" of it..I pondered over her peace having been made perfect for over a year now. As I approached her holly tree this year I was eager to adorn my dwelling with the fruit of hers.

I search for signs of deeper reality in every moment...it's like a magic carpet ride...I can't help it, it's just who I am... who I've always been. (CS Lewis just has to be in my family tree somewhere, I just know it!) Subtle happenings...signs that explode with "miracle" and fill my soul with possibility. Sometimes they take me by surprise, and sometimes I know they're coming before they actually do. This day I was secretly led into such a moment. As Steve and I grabbed the clippers and began to snip away we discovered among the bulging clusters of berries, one cluster shaped into a perfect heart. It took my breath...the splendor of such divine reality was layered with purpose. Just a coincidence of nature? Well, if that's how one chooses to look at it, then that's all it is. But for one seeking to be kissed by a world that carries way more reality than this one...it's a bright sign, a beacon actually. I came home and looked back at the name "holly" in my book of names and gasped as I read these words written underneath the name meaning..."and the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds through Christ"! My grandmother was a dreamer...her dream world used to frighten us a bit when we were little, but as I grew older I began to discover divine purpose to these night parables. I watched that realm emerge into her day during the last few years of her life...her mind no longer guarding it, or reasoning it away. I cherish those moments with her as the veil over her spirit grew thin. I celebrate all she was meant to be, and all that is now perfected in her journey... may the depth of it manifest in generations to come. ~jill

Dear Diary...

2010-12-12T17:50:00.000-08:00

Attempting to break an old habit today... for years I've written my deepest thoughts on pieces of scrap paper. Precious moments tucked away here and there in purses, folded and used as bookmarks, and scattered in countless drawers and notebooks. (I shutter to think of how many have been lost along the way.) I have always had an addiction to journals... delicious ones, rich in texture and flavor. I can't seem to stay away from the journal isle of any store actually. I search and search until I find the perfect journal, then repeat the same beloved ritual of feeling its texture, smelling its potential, then fanning its blank pages as if to fan into flame words already written there. It's like pausing to sense your journey before you live it, or your thoughts before you think them. Still... I get totally inspired, then grab a stack of scrap paper and start hammering out my ideas. It's "madness", and the only awareness I can make of it is that I'm afraid I'll stain the pages with imperfection... setting it aside for "just the right expression". Today, gibberish or not, I'm blowing the dust from this "preserved" stack of books, and fanning into flame all that's written there! ~jill

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T07:25:00.000-08:00

The kitchen has been full this week with the mingling of aromas... gathering recipes- some old, some new, some borrowed, and some blue. Feeling a bit dusty from the year's travel, but so grateful for the mystery in it all. I wish for you this beautiful, rich holiday- a day of feasting on a journey well traveled. The toiling that provides dwelling for those coming behind, and the faith that paves the way for discovery...

Sometimes the dustiest roads lead to the most blinding encounters... travel on!

~jill

Reflections...

2010-11-24T11:22:00.000-08:00

Too many months have passed, and inspiration has twirled around me long enough. Moments lived beyond plume and pen, though deeply etched in the fabric of circumstance. It's time to draw from the well within, and see what my scripted soul reveals. I love November! It would be a shame to let it slip by unheralded...

When inspiration runs ahead it can be painful, when in reality, it only means to be playful. If it never leaves our grasp, even for a minute, then we are limited in our impartation of it. For it's in our pursuit of it that we attain the wisdom to which creativity is so closely connected. It makes room for something bigger than us to pass through us! ~jill

In Search of Our Father's Garden

2010-06-17T23:28:00.000-07:00

I grew up in the country. A simple house nestled on 25 acres of farmland...a playground I shared with two sisters and a brother. Some of my earliest memories involve sitting in a worn leather saddle atop a horse named Lady as my dad brushed her mane. I was royally escorted through enchanted play by a german shepherd named King...dined regularly from honeysuckle bushes that fringed the edge of our yard, and gathered plums and pears from the ground as bulging tree branches released their overflow.

It was an adventure to ride on the tailgate of my dad's old truck, or the back of his tractor, as he made the journey through the pasture to gather harvest from each garden. The rows of vegetables seemed to go on for miles as I sat in the blazing sun waiting for him to walk back and forth carrying armloads of rich reward for his labor. I could trace the outline of his work-boots against earthen sod as he worked his way to the end of each row...soon he would be totally out of sight and out of reach. Songbirds filled the trees heralding the melody for the day. The sky above looked as deep as the sea...if I gazed into it long enough it seemed to reveal secrets to tomorrow's journey. Fertile soil tilled and harvested year after year stretched across the pasture like summer's blanket. As I frolicked across the bed of the truck to the tune of the moment, I could imagine another world and be in it in an instant. However, I was completely unaware of one reality...that I was standing beneath the very trees that would one day cradle forts built by future nephews...a creek that flowed nearby would one day trickle beneath bridges built by my future sons. Many gardens would come and go between then and now...a new generation would one day ride a pony named Star, and make an even deeper search through these hills discovering portals that would spark their search for destiny.

Throughout the years I have watched the earth respond in abundance as my dad puts his hand back to the soil from which he was formed. I'm realizing the value of such legacy as I till the soil in the garden of my own life. The opening of the earth in spring has become as intoxicating to me as fine fragrance...an aroma and texture that entices me to place new creative ideas in fresh soil, and bask in the treasure it reflects. For years our family has eaten the good of my dad's land...I often wonder if he realizes that it provided more than just food for the table...it harvested a never ending search for a deeper reveal!

Mourning to Dancing

2010-04-06T20:25:00.000-07:00

My mind and heart has been full over the past few weeks from contemplating and celebrating Passover and Resurrection. A light and energy has once again highlighted inspiration and given fresh wings to hope and promise! I am particularly moved this year by the very idea of that crazy morning. How I wonder what it would have been like to be perched in the morning fog and witness the tangible reveal of that divine reality. What a beautiful scene it must have been...as the women who came expressing deep sorrow, and bearing fragrance appropriate for burial, stood unaware that the morning dew had crowned their heads like a wreath of laurel. Their deep mourning turned in an instant to dancing as the grave that housed their dearest possession was revealed to be nothing less than a "treasure chamber"! What overflow, what joy, what new colors must have exploded the color spectrum in that moment! What rhythm their feet and bodies must have danced to as they ran to give testament that He did exactly what He said He would do...truth was alive!

As the flames of difficult circumstances have burned hot against my skin for quite sometime, I am persuaded to believe anew that the night season demands the dawn...that mourning, grief, loss, loneliness, confusion, discouragement, and rejection are not finalities of hopeless destiny, but preliminaries to a greater reveal! The morning mist is so close I can feel it starting to soothe my flaming skin. I am feeling undone by the reality that my wilderness has been a "treasure chamber"...that every moment of this long night has been guarded by a blood barrier that demands my life...that my barren soul is already lined with jewels! For the power of that divine resurrection has been working its way through every fiber of my being. He is my Beloved, and His Light is the color I crave! The tomb is empty...but my heart is full!
~jill

2010-03-21T10:05:00.000-07:00

As circumstance invades moments of solitude-
it doesn't bring near the clamor
as the layer of self that solitude will expose.

~jill

For the Love of the Flame...

2010-02-13T19:07:00.000-08:00

What a beautiful Valentine weekend! A creative visual richly displayed for the awakening of love's flame on the earth. The snow fell beautifully all day on Friday- a rare experience in our corner of the south- layering the earth with a decadent image of grace and individuality. Later that evening we watched as the nations gathered for the opening ceremony of the winter olympics. Those whose courage, in the midst of challenge, had enabled them the ability to transcend their skill were at the door of their moment. The war of their challenge was proceeded by a rich display of artistic expression. Rhythm, dance, poetry, and song christened a snow ladened ground. With nations at war, and the challenge to conquer consistently coupling the panic of defeat, the symbolism to the weekend's events seemed even bigger in that moment. A greater authority seemed to transcend the atmosphere breathing hope and light for the nations. It made me crave to participate in the rhythm of it all for the tangibility of the whole experience. The light of love's arrow comes as a torch bearing an eternal flame with the nations universally targeted for the dance. Love, risk, loss, challenge, courage, and victory all swirl together revealing an image of the true taste of love...both bitter and sweet. Gold and silver will symbolize gifts of love for some, and medals of accomplishment for others. Love's arrow...the key ingredient for a universal shift. It's the flame in creative expression...the key to conquering impoverished nations with light...the key for experiencing victory as it dissipates fear...its remedies are endless. May we be an open target for its flame...all we aspire to do or be has no color without it!

In a world where cultural barriers exist

only to define the beauty of our differences...

it's unifying to know that the similarities

we share lie rooted in the hub of our existence.

~Jill

A Blaze that Warms the Chill...

2010-02-05T21:24:00.000-08:00

It's official, the groundhog has seen his shadow and the chilling temperatures of the glistening season have been extended. As the season lengthens, many grow weary of it's bitter chill... however,

"Old Man Winter" doesn't just hang around for the sting...could it be that he's still bearing gifts for the coming season? Whispering in the chilling winds and depositing the necessary ingredients for an abundant spring harvest. I couldn't resist one last tribute to the warmth of the glow. The coziness of the season...still lingering...providing glorious opportunity for us to enjoy a bit more indoor nesting and preparing backstage for the coming spotlight of spring. At times I begin feeling that the task in front of me is just too monumental...all that I can see, touch, and feel-and need to make something of-is lying dormant as winter. That's when the aura of all that's to come arrives filling my senses with fragrance and texture and once again I'm oozing with anticipation! While in the remaining weeks of this chilling season may we gather huge ambitious bundles of joy and hope, prosperity and peace, and lay it at the roots of someone else's vineyard. The promise of chivalry, honor, love, and hope is sure to spring up from the soil of our own garden and form an exquisite tapestry that will be as captivating as the world around us.
~Jill

Mystery...Life...and Inheritance!

2010-01-18T13:52:00.000-08:00

Wow! We are 18 days down the isle of 2010...the year is advancing. Already, I feel my spirit leaping forward, locating every deep well and gushing river, and running through the fields of the year's inheritance! I anticipate fresh discovery this year...a pathway of jewels from the road that "glorious mystery" has led to. The past weekend left me with an incredible urge to ponder, meditate, and absorb more of the mystery in hopes to smell the fragrance, taste the fruit, and feel the rhythm before arriving so I know I'm in the right place when I get there! I am anticipating the joy of leaping over challenges that in the past we were required to walk through....yesterday's pain becomes the instruments for today's creativity! In a time of questionable economy I am filled with joy for the artisans of the world to be rich with discovery...to see every port as an opportunity to discover a ship fully loaded with rich goods for their craft...gold, ivory, jewels, silks, and textured fabrics, etc...all found and discovered in the most unusual places for purposes we couldn't begin to comprehend. May the mingling of our talents invade the earth with new color...may the streets of every city be filled with the low hum of activity from our creative craft until we flood the nations with our song and restore life to the desolate places! May we leap over every obstacle and twirl through every storm to transform our goods into objects fit for kings and princes!!
~Jill

Let Heaven and Nature Sing!

2009-12-26T20:50:00.000-08:00

We've had a "wintery" day at our house...the den is still full of Heaven and Nature. For weeks I have delighted in pouring soap molds scented with "fresh rain" as Christmas gifts for friends and family. It rained hard here on Christmas Eve... it was wonderful to me since I had already been smelling the rain for weeks in my kitchen.

I love to choose a Christmas theme every year...a word or phrase that describes our experiences from that year. A declaration that has been owned and cultivated by the previous year's challenges becomes a beautiful garment to be worn and rich wine to be poured in the year to come! Challenges seem to be gateways for the richest impartations...maybe because we're breaking ground that contains the deepest wells and the largest rivers. This year we were feeling "Let Heaven and Nature Sing". In order to make peace with things that pass through my spirit I usually have to make a creative declaration of it...so, on Christmas Eve my husband Steve cut down a gorgeous tree from our back yard with bare limbs and branches shooting out in every direction. He spray painted it white and we wrapped a white sheet around the trunk. The branches that were used to hold song birds and cradle bird nests, now cradled flannel shirts and toboggans(gifts for the boys). We glistened every limb with winter candy. White winter fresh life saver mints tied with fishing wire, hung from every limb and looked like falling snow...rock candy and jumbo pretzel sticks covered in white chocolate looked like dangling icicles...zero candy bars, etc...you get the picture. It turned out more beautiful than we had even imagined. It didn't snow here on Christmas day, but our den was a wonderland of winter white.

The "winter tree" will not get thrown out with the Christmas tree...we will keep it all winter. Since the birds have migrated I've also collected bird nests from our yard and my dad's pasture. I have an eclectic personality...I love the mixture of highs and lows..."something old, something new", something elegant mixed with something rugged, vintage mixed with modern. I hope to hear, feel, and live life to the song of heaven and nature through each season in 2010. Heaven and nature dwell in constant awareness and awe of the Father of all Creativity...they move to His rhythm and sing a new song daily....and they never lack for inspiration. The first eclectic vignette designed by God himself was the perfect combination of highs and lows...His glory...a glistening centerpiece cradled by straw...a beautiful masterpiece of rich, simplicity. Heaven and nature stood full of awe and wonder as the King of heaven sang "Joy to the World" through the cries of tiny flesh. Soon another portion of rich simplicity would be added to the masterpiece as the soils of earth cradle His crushing and the richest glass of wine ever, would be poured...His spirit in us. Yes..."Let heaven and nature sing"...and dance...and let US sing and dance and have our whole being as we move to the rhythm of the very nature of heaven. May you be at peace with the challenges of 2009 and in 2010, pour generously the wine from your crushing.

Wishing you fullness throughout the coming 4 seasons,

Jill