tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73020583646941206632024-03-13T16:07:56.658-07:00My Only Problemkeeping it simple in durangomy only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-39846850939148767202017-02-04T18:42:00.001-08:002017-02-05T11:18:31.319-08:00Fellow Traveler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Fellow Traveler</div>
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The texts:</div>
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Psalm 62:8: "Trust in The Lord at all times. Pour out your heart before Him. God is a refuge for us."</div>
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A message from a friend: "Out of the fog comes a fellow traveler heading in the same direction, generally, and we journey together for awhile..."</div>
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So the cairns make me think of walking that trail and sometimes not knowing where to go or which path to take. Cairns give direction, point the way...and are a thoughtful message from someone who has traveled the path before me. It's comforting. </div>
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<br />my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-90653078813771371132016-04-13T09:28:00.001-07:002016-04-13T09:29:40.184-07:00Daughter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is about tears spilling all day yesterday. About death and life. About the weight of a friend's burden. About the beautiful daughter she is. About being so desperate as to grab the hem of Jesus and have Him call me <i>Daughter</i>.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-78702922698649930592016-04-13T09:23:00.001-07:002016-04-13T09:23:52.036-07:00An Altar<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is about when God spoke to me during Brahms. And about the Scarlet Thread who told me to make an altar so I would remember.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-55414014119541469142016-04-13T09:21:00.002-07:002016-04-13T09:21:28.683-07:00Holy Selfish<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Good Friday.<br />
Because we were empty.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-82389664793345971802015-05-09T19:31:00.001-07:002016-02-17T07:46:54.121-08:00Wait, WHAT????<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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My son, Johnny, uses this expression ALL THE TIME. It means that some great detail hit him suddenly, and he needs to hear it again. </div>
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Well, then. </div>
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I only attempt anything remotely artistic if I am either REALLY happy or REALLY sad. I'm not a great artist, but I do it because I can process my deepest, most precious feelings best with a little bit of paint and color. </div>
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It's been a really hard year. I lost a precious friend and I am now just coming up for air. </div>
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The poppies signify "fantastic extravagance" because, well, God.</div>
my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-20695769790922106802015-04-04T21:01:00.001-07:002015-04-06T11:51:09.491-07:00Filled Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DPFuXMlmMUY1yJqn4fV-V4YKbjswNR-IAMrFAjLvx7Iy9f0duSq66sB8ngPEgFHtgap8LYFNF7tZumQzmtPJaAa1S0qw1vBLY9-3M7w42Y_WAXpT6GZnCm5hzF27yFR8J7yBMdsPuU-p/s640/blogger-image-1697515522.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DPFuXMlmMUY1yJqn4fV-V4YKbjswNR-IAMrFAjLvx7Iy9f0duSq66sB8ngPEgFHtgap8LYFNF7tZumQzmtPJaAa1S0qw1vBLY9-3M7w42Y_WAXpT6GZnCm5hzF27yFR8J7yBMdsPuU-p/s640/blogger-image-1697515522.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Basking in the delight of His sweetest gifts. </div>my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-87220247704863819952014-07-17T13:18:00.001-07:002014-08-05T17:50:43.410-07:00hitched<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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I started meeting with a group of women, ironically about 6 weeks ago, exactly when some things in my life unraveled. At the first meeting, I just sat there and cried. And cried. And cried. </div>
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One day, our leader used an analogy about a wagon being hitched to something and she challeneged us to think about where our lives are hitched; i.e. where do I put my hope...what do I value as first importance...who/what am I really hitched to?</div>
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I realized at that point that my life was hitched in the wrong place. </div>
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This piece is about changing that. I used a child's wagon instead of a pioneer wagon because of its childlikeness. The wagon is empty because I've been emptied lately. Sunflowers signify 'false riches.' Yarrow signifies 'cure for a broken heart.' The wagon is hitched to the yarrow, the cure=Christ.</div>
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Text is Isaiah 55 and Poem by Loren Wiebe (by wagon). </div>
my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-36052674307742250952014-06-30T21:25:00.001-07:002014-06-30T21:25:46.408-07:00The Dance<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0XNoVXPtdLiyGQRobaxWugxopO9H9qJ7Nl1vT5fJNwFUAq_5Y_jMFJsB-MMFOJYdPoZlqgcaW52rP0xrgZXMNuFSFYB5zAkuyo1JjfL_CCThnzQOLza2Oy53nxMliYtNOip2elQU46eYm/s640/blogger-image--2053274991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0XNoVXPtdLiyGQRobaxWugxopO9H9qJ7Nl1vT5fJNwFUAq_5Y_jMFJsB-MMFOJYdPoZlqgcaW52rP0xrgZXMNuFSFYB5zAkuyo1JjfL_CCThnzQOLza2Oy53nxMliYtNOip2elQU46eYm/s640/blogger-image--2053274991.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>I have been meditating on a passage (Romans 8) this year. There is a part in there that talks about how sometimes we don't even know how to pray, but then the Spirit intercedes and prays for us with groanings too deep for words. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><br></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>Lately, I've felt that way. Been laid flat so low that I don't even know the words to pray. Then I remembered my oldest friend telling me an idea for an art project about the dance between an individual and the Spirit. So this is my response to her idea and a picture of what I am currently experiencing in my life.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><br></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>Thanks, San.</b></div><br></div>my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-553899641395269962014-06-12T18:18:00.001-07:002014-06-12T18:18:14.262-07:00Message in Flowers<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFm75XMSIJC6VTGO_8YfT9YOXnVuMlyVRBKkXvFDy4K2ni5WhbzwfzJVMrnVnWzgCb3ZHUn4sMLt_ESqXavUm-lY6D8ieUvRJhbjE1l5hAh_GgLh-SPYHHfYS5tCHGDupnobBm1DjSS0ML/s640/blogger-image-461268569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFm75XMSIJC6VTGO_8YfT9YOXnVuMlyVRBKkXvFDy4K2ni5WhbzwfzJVMrnVnWzgCb3ZHUn4sMLt_ESqXavUm-lY6D8ieUvRJhbjE1l5hAh_GgLh-SPYHHfYS5tCHGDupnobBm1DjSS0ML/s640/blogger-image-461268569.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Iris- message</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Tulip- declaration of love</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Yarrow- cure for a broken heart</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Purple hyacinth- "Please forgive me."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Zinnia- "I mourn your absence."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Carnation- "My heart breaks."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Helenium- tears</div>my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-52433369800963132352014-06-05T16:55:00.001-07:002014-06-12T18:28:04.406-07:00A Message: Purple Hyacinth<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMohy2HWAQ5fC24ihQ_SIKj_68_WDXTnXHRs1QVHxD70iUX0XEp8Vedy9hukHF9QksSH5fZpdTKOTgQx8APjyUpa3hiIxmQGL8mF8Xn5u_ECWv5dL4Pw_Wyfns-RPTmimx22FzcMsfLKd/s640/blogger-image-668070597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMohy2HWAQ5fC24ihQ_SIKj_68_WDXTnXHRs1QVHxD70iUX0XEp8Vedy9hukHF9QksSH5fZpdTKOTgQx8APjyUpa3hiIxmQGL8mF8Xn5u_ECWv5dL4Pw_Wyfns-RPTmimx22FzcMsfLKd/s640/blogger-image-668070597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4W-fC0KxBem-S1aGSHuP1z4PNlRCeWwzi1tabG6UGnWit1PT1e7TA2j89CgUeGilAO3MBWiFjTqnn-XVL46k8xmoRJdePgigxq2Si-TP_C4B3XIIEoHFCnJhdo1-h0QbxlmdttWru5-9/s640/blogger-image-1770557147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4W-fC0KxBem-S1aGSHuP1z4PNlRCeWwzi1tabG6UGnWit1PT1e7TA2j89CgUeGilAO3MBWiFjTqnn-XVL46k8xmoRJdePgigxq2Si-TP_C4B3XIIEoHFCnJhdo1-h0QbxlmdttWru5-9/s640/blogger-image-1770557147.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The text, from a book I read this week:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">"It is only up in the High Places of love</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">That anyone can receive power to pour themselves down</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In an utter abandonment of self giving." (Hannah Hurnard)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Seeking the High Places...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Purple hyacinth= "please forgive me."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br>my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-13455081317622631072013-09-24T12:33:00.000-07:002013-09-24T12:33:22.919-07:00My New FriendThis one is for her. Jade for rest and peace. The Healing Hand for, well, healing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7w_79sZA-bK3B38wqZ2bx3yH9ka5ls73DQWkSJYQWVq7lnengSZdbqPz7g0sjYc6EOmunOWk9eZhCDyMvId1-MssAuiCbkjQZentnRx3mIxxrDy96eHFZNp4KRyGzOOfNdLz7WRlVULBI/s1600/Ruth's+bracelet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7w_79sZA-bK3B38wqZ2bx3yH9ka5ls73DQWkSJYQWVq7lnengSZdbqPz7g0sjYc6EOmunOWk9eZhCDyMvId1-MssAuiCbkjQZentnRx3mIxxrDy96eHFZNp4KRyGzOOfNdLz7WRlVULBI/s320/Ruth's+bracelet.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born
until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is
born.”
<br /> ―
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7190.Ana_s_Nin">Anaïs Nin</a></div>
my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-7077685694663649622013-08-03T14:01:00.001-07:002013-08-08T15:49:16.712-07:00Rescued<br />
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This page is based on Colossians 1:13-14:<br />
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<i>He rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of His Beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. </i><br />
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I am memorizing the book of Colossians, and every time I get to this verse, I tear up.<i> </i><br />
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This page has several layers, 6 or 7. The very bottom is painted completely with black gesso on which I penciled everything dark that has passed through my life in the past year. I then covered it with subsequent layers, one of them being completely white. The text handwritten in the background is all poetry from the book of Psalms. The hymn is "Two Little Hands." The picture is my sister and I at 22 months, and the book my sister is holding is our mother's Bible. Poppies are my current favorite flower - I cannot get enough of them and sadly, I cannot get them to grow in my garden! They symbolize <i>fantastic extravagance</i>.<br />
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This piece is about being rescued.<br />
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<br />my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-16682650849060700402013-07-13T17:54:00.001-07:002017-01-18T13:39:26.933-08:00My Golden ThreadI made this ATC (Artist Trading Card) today. The music is Goldberg Variation #12, my favorite of the variations. To me, it symbolizes pure friendship with a hint of longing. The flowers are Phlox which is sometimes called the David Flower, symbolizing united souls.<br />
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Here's to friendship. <br />
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<br />my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-41706595669724835052012-10-02T16:08:00.000-07:002012-10-03T13:40:41.925-07:00Immense Solitude<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one..." It is when two such persons discover one another, when, whether with immense difficulties and semi-articulate fumblings or with what would seem to us amazing and elliptical speed, they share their vision - it is then that Friendship is born. And instantly they stand together in an immense solitude." C.S. <span class="yshortcuts cs4-visible" id="lw_1349218943_0">Lewis</span>my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-72932747482201326042012-08-10T17:14:00.002-07:002012-08-10T17:14:44.298-07:001st Degree AngelAlso for Maggie's "Dreaming" Journal, this is another piece on friendship. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVCAtBBuPFeoUBsiGnv-G_lcDllWqGxxRNocZk6cMeKKC6YtmjuwwO5z2oV-EZoNm4Q228Z4SMdN7o15hN5fx7Q6YPVZO-P3wMk0i7ZIlmsortqPCsQno9RkXrFYOYRjNQGHHNjhFNMR4w/s1600/Lean+On+Me+sized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVCAtBBuPFeoUBsiGnv-G_lcDllWqGxxRNocZk6cMeKKC6YtmjuwwO5z2oV-EZoNm4Q228Z4SMdN7o15hN5fx7Q6YPVZO-P3wMk0i7ZIlmsortqPCsQno9RkXrFYOYRjNQGHHNjhFNMR4w/s320/Lean+On+Me+sized.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-43932359779259444192012-06-30T18:56:00.002-07:002012-07-07T19:13:06.674-07:00GlimpsesThis entry is for Heidi's "Longing" journal. I titled this <i>Glimpses</i>. My greatest longing is for Home, where there is no pain, tears or mourning. Where I never have to say goodbye to someone I love. Where all the relationships are pure and true. Where I am safe and at rest. Where my greatest fulfillment is casting my crowns before the throne.<br />
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Sometimes I get glimpses of Home and they are like a mist or vapor that I try to grasp yet can never fully hold onto. Sometimes this happens with music and there is that moment that can never be recreated, but then is gone. Sometimes it's looking into the eyes of someone I love or pure laughter.<br />
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The leaves are from my new baby Japanese Maple tree which symbolizes rest and peace.<br />
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p.s. Brahms, of course.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-89366079965762176282012-06-19T16:15:00.000-07:002012-06-19T16:21:28.131-07:00For Good Reason<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The theme for this entry in Riki's journal is 'bake.' Each page of her journal has a different word (theme) used in baking bread, such as: water, rise, yeast, flour, salt, etc. I chose BAKE. I was trying to think of something significant, deep, thoughtful...but when I told a friend about it, she said "shrinky dinks." Hmmmm, how literal. Okay. I can work with that.
Actually this piece does have sweet significance. It comes from hours of conversation with a friend (not the shrinky dink friend) regarding pain. As I thought about the pain we face in this life, I was reminded of that verse in Psalms: <i>You have kept count of my tossings, put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?
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It gives me hope that those tears are producing beauty in those bottles. The growing flowers are bluebells, signifying humility.
The remaining text is from a song by JJ Heller.
And the tears-in-bottles are created on a shrinky dink, of course. Baked.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-72059010937756327052012-06-01T06:56:00.001-07:002012-06-01T06:56:20.645-07:00Grateful<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This one is about gratitude. How can I find the words to say 'thank you' to Him who has given so much? Another unexpected gift comes my way and I am so caught off-guard by it - the timing, the need, the grace, the safety and the pure delight - and so my best response is without words. Rather, the bowing of the head in silence and accepting His Perfect Goodness. Grateful.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-3252681429846489712012-05-29T07:12:00.000-07:002012-05-29T09:18:53.986-07:00The Third Cup<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This piece was inspired by some of my good friends who are missionaries. My friend was sharing about the Muslim culture and this is what I learned: "Every part of the Muslim culture is based on honor and shame...it is common upon arrival to be offered a cup of coffee. This is called the cup of <i>salaam</i> or "peace". It is my host's way of saying, "There is peace between us." The second cup is the cup is <i>sadaqa</i> or "friendship". This cup represents an offer of friendship on their part and our acceptance as we receive and drink together. But a third cup of coffee, not always offered, is perhaps the most significant. It is the cup of the <i>sayf</i> or "sword". This cup demonstrates that our friends are willing to protect us. They are willing to stand by us. It doesn't matter if we are right or wrong, they are bound by their honor to protect us."my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-65318804803997643022012-04-14T21:20:00.000-07:002012-04-14T21:21:20.056-07:00SurprisedMy entry for Ann's "What Nourishes You?" journal. The surprise was that the parts of my life that I thought were thorns were not; they were seeds. Once the healing waters started flowing, there were blooms everywhere. I was surprised.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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p.s. Brahms, of course.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-45701505771524053832012-04-04T12:21:00.000-07:002012-04-04T12:21:02.781-07:00A Safe Place<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I created this piece for Maggie's "Dreaming" Journal. Maggie encouraged the artists to think about anywhere they wanted to go and I chose "A Safe Place." I am talking about relationships: my husband, my children and my dear friends. I desire to cultivate those precious and safe places.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-63012932422859356032012-03-01T13:08:00.002-08:002012-03-01T13:11:37.153-08:00b. filled<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5MKsW3eJBeRz90XKInKDQdCwN-mNiwwzvfTMnZxh5GP_GdW7q2DWx2-Ep22bI5ts77k6usxObnjHBkKH14xJFU6w0mMvizvqx_pplULJX0I13i84PypPKCHkxPV9uECSFRdFi-zm1RWq/s1600/bfilled.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5MKsW3eJBeRz90XKInKDQdCwN-mNiwwzvfTMnZxh5GP_GdW7q2DWx2-Ep22bI5ts77k6usxObnjHBkKH14xJFU6w0mMvizvqx_pplULJX0I13i84PypPKCHkxPV9uECSFRdFi-zm1RWq/s400/bfilled.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715039304817703986" /></a><br /><br />My 2nd entry in Heidi's journal themed "longing."my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-24105224832022876622012-02-29T17:34:00.004-08:002012-02-29T18:03:44.575-08:00Making the Cut<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTVxuBSvg9qPxx2bCxkj9KNLbEHVnOmMIqTp5SYmCw1sFwQbRiulxEBLnHLCZ8cc_7V18Hzx3Btk0ZCw8ZVZakTlc8BjCeIENJzL4S_pwIVkZ8Fxhyphenhyphen98afWp-l369MardgINtRlG8wQ-O/s1600/Making+the+Cut.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTVxuBSvg9qPxx2bCxkj9KNLbEHVnOmMIqTp5SYmCw1sFwQbRiulxEBLnHLCZ8cc_7V18Hzx3Btk0ZCw8ZVZakTlc8BjCeIENJzL4S_pwIVkZ8Fxhyphenhyphen98afWp-l369MardgINtRlG8wQ-O/s400/Making+the+Cut.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714743144344069442" /></a><br /><br /><br />Sometimes something comes along that is so Good that it is scary. It's scary because you have put your heart out there and taken a risk. It's scary because it Matters. This piece is about letting go of the things that kill the Good, the Rare, the Gift.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7302058364694120663.post-37252246596823283722012-02-29T17:30:00.003-08:002012-02-29T17:33:58.672-08:00Safe in 2419<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqF2ljZwi1njqH7qlRoIo-k8w3nFq5VrYMew5w7L9ExHzE0BjHcFeGoLWcE2lkeXOIO0DZgUP9r97L19PBW3VBTPKOPwXBazkDFncigTIjqT9ugby5JKSTP1KC5No48-_q94SRsACDdoQ/s1600/safe+in+2416.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqF2ljZwi1njqH7qlRoIo-k8w3nFq5VrYMew5w7L9ExHzE0BjHcFeGoLWcE2lkeXOIO0DZgUP9r97L19PBW3VBTPKOPwXBazkDFncigTIjqT9ugby5JKSTP1KC5No48-_q94SRsACDdoQ/s400/safe+in+2416.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714735823066109874" /></a><br /><br /><br />I was at a retreat a few weeks ago. A few of us girlfriends ended up talking late into the night. Sometimes, it can be risky talking late into the night! This is my response.my only problemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01229191058436023176noreply@blogger.com0