Summer Visiting

Guest posting is fun.
Check out my guest post at
Lindsey Brackett's blog

Lindsey is a wonderful writer friend and an earnest soul.
Browse around—you'll be glad you visited her blog.


The Pigeon Guy

Jesus Trashes the Temple Market
What a headline, right? Check out Mark 11:15-19 here. I love the verse that says He would not allow anyone to carry anything through the Temple. Imagine that guy who woke up late, grabbed his crate of pigeons and hurried toward his spot in the Temple market. Up the stairs he rushed, only to be stopped by the Son of God, overflowing with righteous anger. Was it in this guy's face that Jesus made His declaration? 
"My house shall be called a house of prayer ... but you have 
made it a den of thieves!"

As I read this passage today, the sun crested the tree line and beamed heat on the side of my face—9 a.m. and already hot. The July garden exhaled its heavy fragrance of peak season as the words of scripture sifted into my heart spaces.

We are His temple now. The temple market He trashed is long gone, trampled under Roman feet until not one stone remained upon another. But epistle writers say that His temple of preference is now ... in us. And how is that going? Am I using this temple I've been given as a holy house of prayer? Am I bringing the sacrifices of praise and offerings of self? How often have I abused my privilege just like the pigeon-carrying guy?

 So much to ponder on an early morning in July. 



Summer is buzzing along outside my doors.

Temperatures have been mild, so we've had lots of open-window nights.
The music of night creatures accompanied by wind in the chimes is a magic 
carpet straight to dreamland. Where I want to stay until morning. 

But ... now that I'm older, I have lots more time for pondering in the hours when 
the rest of my house sleeps. Maybe you can identify. 
These days, with no rhyme or reason, my eyes just flutter open and I'm awake.
Am I awake to pray? Undoubtedly. 
Am I awake to worry? Often.
Am I awake because I'm almost fifty? (sigh) That's what I hear. 

I love how Father Tim, main character of the Mitford novels, prays his way through 
the town of Mitford during his nighttime waking hours. 
Following his literary example, I turn the fan up a notch and settle back in bed to pray my 
way through the rooms of my home, for every beloved who comes and goes through these doors. 
Then I turn my nighttime prayer walk in the direction of my nearest neighbors.
Though still in bed, I stand in front of their homes and ask for blessing, mercy, wisdom.
In my mid-night prayers, I wander our church asking favor on those who minister there.
Sometimes, I even prayer wander to visit our missionaries on far foreign fields ... 
are you getting sleepy yet?

I wish I was.


Umbrella Lights

Umbrella lights that blink on just as the sky turns dusky-dark blue 
- dreamy!
I wonder what the fireflies think about 
this new backyard feature ...