Little House on the River

Their own spill-proof Mason Jars

I'll just say thanks to "Pinterest" (which my right visual learning brain loves), a workman in the house with a drill and a few straws ~ the morning serving of breakfast juice will be served and welcomed by the threesome (well, the 3rd, Charlie's, is waiting for him, but until this mama can figure out how to turn a mason jar into a bottle, his will wait for him).
Happy sippers today!

Losing Teddy ~

As much as we didn't want for it, a lesson in saying goodbye came upon us this week. Charlotte's little fuzzy pal Teddy went to heaven ~ as an adult, im still no good at goodbyes and wrestled to figure out how to help my girl grieve her loss.
We decided to take some photos as sweet Teddy slept and Charlotte held his paw. Goodbye Teddy:(

Rest ~

The ease of a photograph ~ to cast out all clutter and distractions beckoning to take the eye of the beholder {away}...from {resting} on the beauty and simplicity of the focus.

[ "Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace..." ]

Helen H. Lemmel

And it is, my learning, learning, ever learning...this photograph of what looks of and says "rest" to the soul. Was it rest in the moment? ~ so often I have to step back from the masses of my world to see Him, cut out, edit and refine my focus just as a photograph will do. I would consider in past tense, a photo, to be art and not real life ~ but how can I not see the similarities of what He calls my eyes to do? Turn my eyes upon Him and the lens will dim the undone hems and cast light on to the Truth.

With that said, outside the edges of these photos ~ real life was happening...a striving for quiet~time, my "three-some" taking down my carefully laid plans and bricks, noise, interupptions, need, physical aching and so on.

It's never as it seems, it's not in this photo either...this day, I read "Jesus Calling" on the couch, in the middle of the living room, kids all around me with the noise of daily life,tea sitting on the table cold. I read it there, on my lap. My daughter noticed, spoke:

...."Mama, you're reading your devotions." Me, "Yes." It's then I realized, though my quiet-rest came not in the form of what I ordered, it did become the focus for what He ordered...a daughter to be fed a photograph of "rest" in the moment.

Prayers in the sink ~

Our little house came with no dishwasher ~ a inconvience, it seems.  Who could live without a dishwasher ~ it's been my untold, shying away from explaining our "withouts" to others secret.  Maybe it started off as embarrasment, looking around ~ seeing so many, with so much conveneinces, no shame in that, I see. By comparing, I choose to hold the shame.  Seems I learn my lessons on the ground, in the sink and being without so much, so often.  And  my heart has had to humble, soften and look deep, deep down into those places that I grumble as and toss and squirm ~ to be free of.  There is beautiful art in our sufferings, in our "withouts", if we stop, stay and take a deep breath, we find He is not trying to drown us in our suffering, but trying to lift our heads up to show us the glorious art in our place. 

{Doing the dishes has put my prayers in the sink ~ I come to the sink, a view of greatfulness, for the time I stand and wash.  There's an art in doing dishes, He's called me to do them every day, to come to the sink, work, to clean for others and for, what He knew, was a time of stopping and saying prayers as I willingly step into the process of getting all those dirty things beautiful again, to be used again and again and again.}

Buttoning up~

A craft inspired from a local antique market ~ Charlotte and I were on the hunt in our attic for the big mason jar filled with old buttons.  A few button boquets later that never need watering...put up on a sill ~ given away.

Buttons.  They've taken a life and use of their own here ~ added to our felt christmas ornaments and now being put to good use on knitted felt wrist wraps and such. 

 

 

Felted wool wrist wrap ~ {a give a way}.

This is a give~a~way.   A felted button wrist wrap.  By encouraging words from dear friends, my knits and woolens projects are on Etsy now.  But knitting is about so many other things to me ~ it's about giving  and inspiring, praying with each stitch made, knitting forth intricate unique and one of a kind pieces, drinking in all the life  that lives out before me as I sit, knit and purl. 

Just leave me a comment and a name will be picked and announced on Saturday, March 3rd.

Enjoy!

Stocking no. 3 for kid no. 3...Charlie Porter

Bad picture.  Stocking no. 3 is yet to be for Charlie Porter.  Picked out the wool and hoping now that I can make the date for it to be hung and stuffed with sweet baby boy things by Christmas Eve.

Had to make a visit the yarn market to get more wool for Charlie's Christmas stocking and this is what I came home with...a book and supplies for 2 additional projects ~ wrist warmers and a lace cowl.  I feel like a kid in a candy store there ~ really, do I have that much time? I cannot allow this to happen for at least another 3 months.

Antique finds ~

Another year finds at the local craft and antique fair ~ my favorite thing to do with mom and sis after Thanksgiving. The 'tiques all have a special place...just waiting to be hung and some will go in a little boys' toolbox under the tree this year!

Ye 'ole faithfuls~

Time to pull myself up by the bootstraps...dust off the needles...and get to knitting ~

Puddles in the Valley~

Had to lay my stick down, you know, the one that you think keeps your walk steady, keeps your path clear of debris, like an old friend of comfort.  Valleys are of suffering...but along the way, hindsight and His Word has shown, putting my stick down for the rest of utter reliance on Him, gifts, wrapped presents show up along my pathway through the wet, dark valley.  And in the suffering there comes the gifts of His sweet, specific and delicate provision.  The kids have known it all along, the secret to the joy in the puddles.   

Life will take us, no guarantees, promise that we're not alone, the mailbox void of the income known, ringing cries of child's special needs beckon my tired knees, it's not rest, it's not a good marriage, it's not even this house, these things I hold, it all falls away, in the valley, the mess I've made, this muddy, dark, darn walk is NOT what I wanted, I cry, it's not what I need, God?  Or, yes ~ it is.  This muck of a puddled path, He has ordered my way, how can I consider the daily bread we have not materially to feed us?  He is my daily bread, that plastic loaf with a hundred scripture cards, the day my worker man came home without a job, one green card on the floor, I picked it up ~ He feeds me there, that moment.  I shall not be in want. He walks before me, I shall not be in want.  This impossible is His.  THIS is good.