Thought for Today: Little Corner Flapping Around

Happiness is excitment that has found a settling down place, but there is always a little corner that is flapping around. ~ Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

What is that little corner flapping around for you? Once in a while I sort of stumble upon something special that fills me with that sort of excitement that is deep and yet not so deep like a seal flapping its flipper on the surface of water. And there is usually a story. 

One day, not so long ago, I drove out into the countryside and after about an hour passing green fields in every direction I came upon a gravel driveway that led me back into the property of an old estate. I parked the car, put on my long light pink raincoat with the oversize hood and pulled on my flowery rubber boots. Briskly, I walked down a thick grassy path to a secret garden. Happiness. It was cold. It was raining and windy. Yet. Happiness was flapping around just as much as my raincoat in the wind. Beauty. And that tucked away feeling that I have treasured ever since I had a solitary reading spot in our drafty rarely used upstairs room with a little carpet and rocking chair and my very own stack of books. Happiness to be alone discovering something unique for the first time. It was refreshment for weariness that comes with daily stuff. An hour  was all it took and then I was tossing my soaking raincoat into the backseat and driving home, smiling, thankful to God for secret gardens that can move the soul.

Thought for Today: Exercising for Life

Our family chiropractor, Dr. Amy Mercovich, asked me to send her a few tips on exercising that might be helpful for someone who was just starting out. It was fun to think about and also affirming to have someone ackowledge that yes, I have been exercising over my entire life. Like it or not, thanks Dad. He got us kids out there. I remember it well. Turn off the TV and go for a run. I hated missing Little House on the Prairie, but I was learning something important. Need some inspiration? Check out Dr Amy's Blog for some great stories from people who have made exercise part of life and are living life better with exercise. 

Poetry: Poem for Lent...What If

 What If

What if the sun didn't rise

Pink light softly starting a new day

Darkness

What if snow didn't fall

Glistening snow angels happy days off from school screaming down the sledding hill

Bitter

What if Spring never came

Grass green leaves unfolding blossoms opening awake to fresh sunshine

Brown

What if music never came to life

Dancing humming deep connection healing joy

Emptyness

What if friends never laughed and smiled

Enemies

What if the sea never splashed its shore

Beauty comfort refreshment from heat

Burned 

What if movies didn't have popcorn

What if soft blankies were never cuddled

What if swim teachers never told us to jump in

What if there were no sunsets

Red orange pink bursting

Charcoal

What if coffee shops only served tea

What if good books didn't have sequels

What if he never asked and I didn't say yes

What if diamonds didn't sparkle

Valueless

What if You didn't speak the world into existence

What if You weren't?

Poetry: Darkness and Light

Over the past few months I have been looking forward to and planning a Ladies Retreat. Last weekend finally came and what an honor it was to lead beautiful women in a couple of days of refreshment at Lake Ontario. I chose the theme of LIGHT. The idea hit me when I was putting away our Christmas tree lights and I was sad to see the lovely sparkly lights leave our living room. Light is such a meaningful part of LIFE. Springtime in the north brings more light and WOW what a difference it makes. We all feel so much more alive with more light in our days. Here are two poems I wrote for our first session to help visualize the difference light can make in darkness. This was a fun exerecise! I started with the Darkness poem and tried to paint with words what a dark path is like. Then, I wrote Light and it is almost the same poem but I changed just a few things to convey the difference light makes. 

Darkness

Walking home 

Down a dark path

Cold fingers, toes, cheeks

Wind cutting 

My thin coat

Fear filling

My mind

No light anywhere

Stepping slowly

Feeling

My way

Shadows shift

Black tree limbs

Reach to 

Grab, trip, push me

Down into the dirt

I see a house

Dark shadow 

Black sky

Tripping on steps

Grabbing icy doorknob

Opening

Searching

No light

Only 

Cold

Empty

Silence

Hunger

Darkness

Light

Walking down

A dark path

Cold fingers, toes, cheeks

Wind cutting

Thin coat

Fear filling my mind

Wait!

My flashlight!

Pulling it out of my pocket

Shining on every step

Shoulders relax

Calmly

Forward 

I walk

Frosted tree limbs

Sparkle in

Smallest ray

Beauty everywhere

I see a house

Dark shadow

Black sky but,

A candle in the window

Reaches out 

Welcoming

Tripping up steps

Grabbing icy doorknob

Opening

Searching

Fire crackles

Orange flames glow

Warmth fills the kitchen

Candles on the table 

Burning brightly

Baking bread smells like

Home in the soft

Light

Thought for Today: Winter Wonder

What makes you feel like a kid again? WONDER! Yes! It's that unmistakeable feeling that comes over you when you see something new and incredible, when you are shocked at how something works or was created to be so amazing. And it's like you are a child experiencing life in a fresh aspect like never before. This week wonder hit me. I woke up to another January day of cold and snow. As the day dawned, my daughter looked out our sliding glass door and excalimed, "Look at all the snowballs!" Sure enough, when I looked out to our backyard there were hundreds of snowballs rolled up overnight by the wind. In all my life I had never seen this before. WOW! Wonder! Amazement! I quickly changed clothes and threw on snow gear. I had to see this upclose and take some photos to share with family down south. When I got outside I saw more and more snowballs and my excitement grew. How could this be? How come I'd never seen this phenomenon before after so many cold snowy winters? I was filled with delight and energy! My average day in the north in January in winter changed into something special, something fun, something happy. What has filled you with wonder lately? Feel free to leave a comment!

Poem: Last Day First Day

 Last Day First Day

Soft morning light dawns

Candles flickering

Fireplace logs burning

Warming

My toes while I wait

For the coffeepot to finish

Brewing

Earthy aroma filling the 

Quiet house

Today is our first day of the

New year

Your last day with us

You sparkled 

Brightly 

Softly

Giving joy

Beauty

Gently in the darkness

Reminding us

A light has dawned

The

Light of the World

Short Story: The Guest

The Guest

It was a cold winter's night and while I was rummaging around in my living room looking for matches to light a fire in my small fireplace there was a knock. 'Must be squirrels again', I thought. The cold was driving them into small holes in the foundation of my cottage in the hills. But there it was again, a firm knock against my wooden front door, and then two more knocks after that. Who could it be so late on such a bitter night? I left the matches on the mantle, I had found them in the drawer of the side table, and ran over to the door, unbolted it with a bang, that large rusty lock needed a hard turn to loosen it and saw a hooded figure waiting and stamping her feet on the coblestone step. She lifted her head and snow showered down from her hood and covered her brown leather boots. Her coat was long and deep red, made from a soft worn cordoroy and the edges were trimmed with green embroidered vines. "Well," she said, "Are you going to invite me in or just stand there letting the cold in?" I was too shocked to say anything as she marched herself in through the doorway and right over to the fireplace. "This just won't do", she remarked and began buiding a fire. "Hand me the matches please." With a quick strike of a match she bent over to rest the flame onto the pine needle kindling and the fire instantly began to crackle. "There!" Before I could even ask her name she plopped down into my only easy chair and rested her head full of short white curls back and closed her eyes. Her round face was gentlelike with wrinkles and rosy cheeks. I thought she might fall asleep she looked so cozy and at home in the cushions. "My does something smell nice", she said. I just remembered and hurried into the kitchen to turn down the burner and ladled out steaming wassail into two mugs and brought them to the living room. I handed one to my guest and kept the other one and sat down by the fire. My hands were warm from the hot mug. "Excuse me," I said. "Can I ask who you are and what you are doing out on such a bitter night and why you were knocking on my door?" She smiled there as she rested with her eyes closed and then before I knew it she was snoring softly. I reached over and took the empty mug from her hands and watched her closely. She looked familiar but not entirely recognizable. Was she my neighbor's grandmother lost out in the snow? Their farm was a mile over the south hill and I couldn't imagine anyone wandering so far. I let her sleep and sipped on my wassail, how did she manage to drink hers so fast? The fire snapped and spat a few sparks, the room was dim except for the bright dancing flames. My mind wanndered to soft music playing Silent Night, candles held by steady hands in a dark church. Suddenly the scene changed and children were lauging and skating on a frozen patch of ice in a lonely cornfield at night. Then my mind raced to a dining room table beautifully laid, white china bowls filled with scalding oyster stew waiting for an eager family. The spicey and sweet aroma of the wassail filled my cottage and once again my mind wandered to a kitchen alive with loud Hellos and Merry Christmas and Come on In! Yes, it was just as it was before, so vivid in my mind's eye. Then suddenly, the old woman jumped to her feet, pulled her sagging hood over her head, clapped her hands, opened the door (how she did it so effortlessly I'll never know) walked into the  blowing snow and disappeared. I never found out who she was and never saw her again. But, if you ever hear a knock on a cold winter's night it just might be The Ghost of Christmas Eve.

Photo art: grunderquendel

Poem: Magic

 Magic

I walk 

On a cold frosty morning

Crunching of ice under my feet

To clear my head

Pages of lists

Left at home

Gifts to buy

Dinners to cook

Snowmen to build

Tree to trim

House to clean

Cards to write

Clothes to wash

Calendar to check

Again

I breathe

Cold air in

What is the point

Of all the lists?

Slow beam of sunlight 

Shines through

Gray clouds 

Transforms fresh white snow

Into fields of shimmering diamonds

Magical

In one second

Heavy thoughts become a prayer

God fill me 

Let me create, like You

The magical in all 

I do 

This Christmas.

Sarah Brutovski

                                                                       

A Tribute to Fall

 

A picture is worth a thousand words. What about a picture of words from when you were a child, just finding her way with words and feeling a strong connection to them? The worth seems deep and important. I'm so thankful that one of my writing projects from childhood was saved. I cherish this snapshot of my seven year old self.

Thought For Today: Exploring

Spring was full of one thing after another and then Summer started off with millions of details to pull together for our first graduation party and then a big trip for our senior and myself. It had been such a long time since I had last traveled to the west coast. After eight days away, I came home feeling blessed. Each issue I had stressed over beforehand had turned out just fine and really more than fine. God answered a lot of prayers and it was a super trip. 

The delight of travel for me is exploration. From trying new foods to seeing new sights, it's a true adventure to be discovering a place for the first time. I wanted to carry into the remaining weeks of Summer wonder and excitement, a challenge regardless of how much I enjoy experiencing new things. There are dishes to be washed, driving, then more driving to take kids to work, to go grocery shopping, to pick up mulch from the garden store. Then of course meals need to be made, and for this dry spell we are in, gardens need to be watered and then watered day after day after day. In July, I kept that spirit of exploration alive but now the school year has already started. What explorations can I fit into the Fall routines to keep life Fresh?

Poem: Train

 I've been thinking over a concept for about two years and decided to try to put it in to a poem. So many times life throws the bad at us while something beautiful is happening. One day our family was enjoying the last day of a fun soccer season. The weather was sunny, breezy and warm. The kids were jumping into the van laughing and sharing stories of the day's games and the pizza party. We had the together feeling; family and goodness. I remember thinking it was a perfect moment of joy. Then I got a text letting us know that a family we had been investing in had lost their young mom to suicide. It stopped me in my tracks, sitting in the front seat in shock. And that's what life is like. The beautiful and the devasting happen often right at the same time. Maybe it's grace? Enough good to help us in the trials?

Train

On the train

Tattered overnight bag in my lap

Leather handles smooth in my fingers

Seats are empty

I travel alone

Quiet

The tracks under the floor rumble in a comforting rhythm

Strange experience this 

Train

I look out 

Clear window on my left

I inhale deeply

Beauty

Green leafy trees brush glass as the 

Train ticks by

Bright sunshine

Soft breeze

Children laughing on a set of swings, higher and higher

Picnic table by a lake

Shining water in the light

A trail up a mountainside

Log cabin with a stream of gray smoke 

Ascending in a smooth line

A couple holding hands

Walking along a white sandy beach

Toes in the water at the shoreline

A little town with a coffeeshop 

Scent of fresh bacon sizzling and coffee brewing fills the 

Train car

I inhale deeply

Smile

Stretch my legs out in front of me

My seat is soft and velvety

I look to my right

Rub my eyes

Suddenly

Dark

Shadows blur by

Trees have turned into

Claws

Sun to 

Rain pelting the windows, they start to 

Crack

How long before the break and

Shatter in the storm

The breeze is an angry wind

Lightening cuts the sky, explodes

Sparks burst into the darkness

Train tips and shakes

I grab the seat in front of me

Hold tightly

My grip is the only thing

Holding me steady

Long cruel arms of the trees

Wrap around the train

Try to rip it from the track

All is darkness

Until

I look to the left

Calm

Snow falling gently

Pure white feathers

Floating down 

Covering the land in inches then feet of 

Downy diamonds

Sweet cinnamon fills the air

Warmth

My bag pops open

A thermos of hot coffee, a sweet roll are ready

I pour coffee into a pink mug

Sip, savor, relish the richness

Sweet roll to my lips

Is this heaven?

Mug warming my cold hands

Look to the right

Darkness, fury, storm

I close my eyes

Warm hands, quiet breath

Music begins

Melody of gladness

Strain of dissonance, conflict

Then clear, gentle, bright

Melody

Flute trilling the song

Bluebird rising

Life.

photo credit: Dirk Vetter/ pixabay

Poem: Frost (yes, another one with the same title)

 

Frost

Grass covered

Millions of 

Ice crystals 

Sparkling in the 

Early morning light

Coming up over the hillside

Still

Every day

Morning the same 

Cold

Frigid wind

Hitting me 

Again

Even after a cold winter

Now in the springtime

Still

Cold frost

On the grass

Still

Coldness

Why?

A separateness

Quiet distance

Even after time has passed

Where beauty bloomed

I look for dew

A sign the cold

Is gone, but

Still

Frigid

Ice in the air

Between us and I don't

Understand why

In the springtime

After a cold winter

Still

Frost.

Poems: Silhouette

 

Silhouette

My leaves have fallen

One

By

One

In the wind

They have flown away

Floating

Swirling

In the autumn

After a lush year

I was so full

So plump with green

My shade was 

Perfect

Cool on

Burning days

And then I was 

Red

Perfect

Brilliance on every leaf

Bright and even shocking

In my beauty

As the sun dimmed

My red turned

Less resplendent

Until the first frost

Days to weeks

Red to brown

Gone

Taken across the hills

Now I am 

Bare

No shade or 

Crimson sequins

Bare arms stretch

Beauty gone or

Is it just

Different

In the winter dusk

A silhouette left

Each edge revealed

For what it is

Always there

Beneath the 

Lush and the red

Strong, firm, unwavering

When the winds came 

The frost circled and I let go of

Expectations and giving

And stood tall

My branches bold

I invited a rosy sky to 

Come and fill in the 

Empty spaces 

To show my 

Silhouette

Strong firm 

Standing tall in

Winter.

photo credit: Katrin from Pixabay

Poetry: Frost

 I took a lovely writing course called Winter Writing Sanctuary by Beth Kempton. Her Calm Christmas podcast was the perfect relaxing listening I needed to help me get into the Christmas mood so I checked out her free course for the week in between Christmas and New Years. The next few posts I'll share the poems I wrote.

Frost

Walking down the gravel path

Sun warming my face, my hair

Air as I exhale turning to a soft fog in the

Cold

Shoulders relaxing, weight lifting

Legs stretching forward

Breathing

Beauty

Fields

Strands of green winter wheat

Growing even in the 

Cold

Morning

Frost melting the tips of

White outlined strands

Frozen

In the wind

Frost

Shining

Unexpected

Beauty lifting weight of

Grief, life, one thing after another

Sun

Peeking up, rising over the fields

Opening my 

Gaze to find

Unexpected

Beauty even on a brown stalk of feathered grass from the

Season gone by

Days of heat and rain now

Cold

Clear

Sparkling

Frost

Favorite Things

 Time has flown by and while I had hopes for getting a website launched and waited for that, the wait stalled my blogging. I wasn't sure if I should blog more or just wait for the website. As I plan for the next thing I thought it was about time to get back to the blog. So we'll see where the future of sarahswritingcafe ends up and for now get back to basics here.

This year we have a senior! What? Oh my goodness. Yes! "The days are long but the years are short". I'm not sure who originally said this but Gretchin Rubin quotes this often on her podcast Happier. And you cannot get a better summation of the motherhood/parenting experience. Some days feel like an eternity when you are home with babies all day. Then snap your fingers and your oldest child is a senior in high school and making plans for college and buying a car. Looking back I wouldn't trade the hard days: the teething, the tears over schoolwork, sleepless nights, hot sweaty hours balancing a bike without training wheels, coaching through teen struggles. Here we are and the bond we have runs deep. The beautiful moments (Look Mama I can...moments, seeing countless smiles for all the heartfelt wins from first Bible quizzing awards to getting her license) outweigh the struggles and looking over her senior photos my heart wells with thankfulness for the journey already passed and the road ahead. For privacy reasons I won't share our favorite senior photos but I love them all and our photographer did such an amazing job: Honest to Goodness Photography

My favorite new gadget is this drink adapter for my van. Gone are the days of my water bottle rolling all over the place. It also holds my favorite healthy treat: Sobol smoothie bowl. It's adjustable so pretty much anything from a bowl to a coffee fits nicely. This would make the perfect gift or stocking stuffer.

Kayaking! If you've never gone you should try it out. The tricky part for me is balancing the kayak getting in or out but if you can use a boat launch and walk into the water it helps tremendously. I also have an open top so I don't feel like my legs will get stuck and my kayak is short and slides right up the the middle of my van and I can get the trunk shut easily. Just slide it in and GO! I love the feeling of sitting in the water and paddling fast or slow is so calming and peaceful. We also have 2 inflatable kayaks and they are smooth in the water and an easy way to get started, transport, and store. The bonus is that the Intex Kayaks are more affordable and come with a paddle and a pump.

Since 2017 I've been a huge fan of Chatbooks. It's been a lifesaver and game changer to keep up with all my photos and get them off of my phone and into our hands. I do all of it on an easy to use app right on my iPhone. The kids love getting their Chatbooks in the mail (who is on the cover this time?) and often I see them with a stack on the couch browsing through for fun. No more bulky photo albums taking up space or taking forever for me to finally finish. If you want to try out Chatbooks let me know and I might be able to get you a coupon code.

Hope you enjoy my latest favorite picks!

Feel free to leave a comment and share what you are loving right now!

Thought for Today: Connections With Jesus

I've struggled on and off with the lack of connection I've felt to the Bible as a woman of faith. Since the Bible is the foundation of my faith as a Christ follower, I have felt disappointed on occasion with its lack of relevance to women. So, I take notice when something strikes a chord with me. Recently, I was listening to a pastor speak about John the Baptist from the book of Matthew. What he said about John's character seemed inaccurate. So, I took a closer look at the book of Matthew and that's when I started to see and experience a new connection to Jesus.

John the Baptist was Jesus's cousin. How I see it, they were close because their mothers were close. Mary hurried  (Luke 1:39) to John's mother Elizabeth when she found out she was expecting the Christ-child before her marriage to Joseph. She trusted Elizabeth enough to share her dangerous truth. When both expectant mothers met for the first time since they had become pregnant, the baby leapt in Elizabeth's womb. Then Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. These women were bound together in the strange plight of mothering boys who would change the world forever. Later as Jesus was entering his ministry he came to John, his cousin, to be baptized. He could have gone to a leader in the the Jewish community but he went to John. When important things are about to happen, Jesus and John are together. They are family and chosen by God to fulfill His plan. 

Eventually, John is imprisoned for speaking out against the immoral King Herod and Jesus is busy healing people, raising the dead, and preaching good news to the poor. ((Matthew 11:1-6) John is wondering if Jesus is going to come or should he expect someone else. To do what exactly? To break him out of prison? To bring down the criminals in the government? But Jesus does not go to John. He continues doing what He was here to do. Jesus sends a message to John with the details of what He is doing and the last sentence is a sort of apology and a blessing for John if he does not loose faith. He continues rescuing people, but Jesus chooses to not rescue his cousin. Even though Jesus was God in the flesh he was still human and had to obey the will of His Father. He knew the danger John was in, yet He did not intervene. The Bible doesn't go into any details of what this was like for Jesus, but I can only imagine it was probably one of the most difficult experiences of heart Jesus ever had to endure. What does it feel like to have all the power in your hands to save your own cousin from an unjust death and not help, to not be there at all? This was God's plan. Or maybe it was the plan of the evil rulers of that period of history which God would eventually turn into good for the world. Eventually, the inevitable happened. John was beheaded in prison.

Jesus hears the news of John's death and what does He do? He gets into a boat alone and rows or paddles or sails away from it all and heads to a secluded place. (Matthew 14:13) Yes. This speaks to me. I see you Jesus in your humanity, in your grief. There are no words (to my knowledge) in the Bible that speak about this. And maybe it's because there are no words. Period. A family member dying alone in a prison. I see you Jesus dealing with that. Knowing it was going to happen, dreading the hour, knowing you can't be there to comfort or help or rescue. I see you Jesus. I've been there too Jesus. The prison was a hospital and it was my mother there alone, unjustly kept from her family. I know the struggle and pain of being kept away and having to continue to do all the usual things I was meant to be doing. And I see this moment when you get into a boat. Alone. Privately. You head to the water. And breathe. 

As soon as Jesus is away from it all the crowds follow Him on foot. They could see Him from a distance trying to be alone just for a while. When He comes ashore they are there waiting with all of their needs and He has compassion on them. (Matthew 14:14) He could've gotten back in the boat and said He was grieving and worn out, but He instead heals the sick. I see you here Jesus. Tired. Grieving. Needing to be alone on the shore but people are there needing you to help them. When life is hard, time does not stop, as much as I would like it to, just for a day. Instead the people you love still need you to meet their needs. Evening comes and they are in a remote place. Everyone is hungry. Jesus's close friends are ready to send the people back to town for food. But Jesus, weary from grief and caring for thousands of people all day, makes dinner. And not just for Himself. He makes 5,000 dinners. Oh yes, every mom can relate to this. And if Jesus kept it simple then we can too but the dinners still need to be made. Even the 4,456th dinner. Thankfully, the disciples each had a leftover basket to take home. No lunches to make the next day!

After eating dinner, Jesus sends the disciples away in the boat while He stays to dismiss the crowd. Once He sends each one on their way, He finally gets a while to Himself up on the mountainside. (Matthew14:22-23) Does He take a nap or build a campfire? No. He prays. Jesus shows us what to do when there are thousands of meals to make, sick ones to care for, relatives to grieve, teaching, and helping to be done. It's time to get alone and pray. It's time to send people on their way and get close with The Father. Alone. 

In the next part of the chapter Jesus walks on water to meet the disciples. There are still more lessons to teach His friends about what faith really means. For me, the lessons in this section are about seeing Jesus. So many times I want God to see me, to meet me, to help me in my daily stresses. But, maybe God wants me to see more of Him, to understand that He came as a human to lead the way so that when life is hard I know He's been there too and He understands what it's like. He cares. He knows.

photo credit: alexander andrews

                                    

Hope Week 4: Only 9 months late

 Nine months ago I was writing about HOPE. I was writing about recognizing beauty everywhere. I was inspired to write about heaven and a soul who awakens on a beautiful beach and dives into a cool refreshing lake of water to discover the floor is covered by small glass bottles; the bottles of tears stored up there by God from a hurting soul below. Writing about Hope felt, well, hopeful.

At the end of January, I went on a retreat with a community of ladies I've become close to over the past ten years. Our cozy cottage sat just off the icy shores of Lake Ontario. On frigid walks we admired a beautiful lighthouse. She was the perfect symbol of resilience; standing tall while covered in ice and surrounded by frozen waves. 

All weekend we laughed, discussed, ate comfort foods, prayed for each other, and savored the time away from the demands of busy households. I rode home with my sister and we marveled at the flock of floating swans in the frigid lake with their necks tucked back into their feathers. The year was starting out more hopeful already in comparison to the past six months of lockdowns, cancelations, rules, and anger. Life would soon be getting back to some sort of normalcy. That was January. A few days later my mom was admitted to the hospital with multiple infections, fighting for her life. 

Twenty-five days later I was standing next to my mom in the ICU. I was saying good-bye for the last time while wearing a hospital gown, a mask, gloves, and a face shield. This wasn't how my mom would've have wanted her last moments on this earth to go. She would've wanted to talk to me, hug all her grandchildren once more, have us all together and surrounding her one last time. 

I am still trying, these many months later to adjust to the empty place where my mom used to be. A couple of weeks is not long enough to grasp the idea of the ending to a story that has always been. I'm thankful for her life and the ways she is memorialized in each life she brought into the world, each life she touched in some way. 

This summer I took my kids back to the shores of the lake with the lighthouse. There she was still standing tall in the sunshine while we splashed in the waves nearby. She was strong and beautiful taking the good with the bad, the sunshine with the storms.