A Walk Through the Garden

A few pictures from the gardens, just this morning. I never "style" my photos, so everything you see is as it is. I want to post pictures of my rosemary and foxglove, but I'm out of time. My beloved and I are planning a trip to the mountains (in the Barbie Jeep) late this afternoon, and I have much to do in the meantime. I'll try to remember to take my camera when we leave, so that I can "bring you along" for the ride - top down. Won't you come? Bring a bit of cash for a snack at Dead Beat Pete's. Maybe bring a hat to avoid what I call "crazy convertible hair"....I never wear a hat, though. I don't mind the windblown look. Nothing more relaxing, in my simple version of the world.

tealights along the back deck...

peppers - got 5 coming in, and a bunch of blossoms!

the sunflower patch - nothing blooming yet...

Kentucky Wonder pole beans in the back, and basil in the front. (There's thyme in the middle, but you can't see it.)

Our old, broken chimnea, now a planter. My gardening apron and back brace (ahem) hanging where I always reach for them, each day.

(Told you I don't style my pictures. Don't they look hideous, hanging there?)

Rudbeckia and salvia. I want tons more rudbeckia! Masses of it! Billows of it!

The hydrangea I planted this spring has finally bloomed.

The butterfly garden...

Roma tomatoes

a small variety of patio tomato - we've a total of 32 tomatoes coming in.

They'll all ripen at about the same time. Want some?

Of Books, and Words Underlined

excerpt from "Seeking the Face of God" by Gary Thomas...

"...'We do not keep ourselves by our own power', Pascal wrote, (in our own strength), 'we have only the counterbalance of two opposing vices, just as we stay upright between two contrary winds. Take one of these vices away, and' (in our own strength), 'we fall into the other.'

What did Pascal mean by this? A man or woman who works very hard may simply be avoiding the sin of laziness by being filled with selfish ambition or greed. Remove his or her hunger for more money and this person will immediately become as lazy as any of us.

Others might be very disciplined around food. They would be the last persons on earth you would label as gluttons. Yet they are disciplined around food because they want to have a physique that will draw attention to themselves, not because they don't want food to have a hold on their hearts and steal their affection for God. They may be free from gluttony only because they are slaves to vanity.

Do you see how we play vice against vice - using vanity to destroy gluttony, for instance - and are upheld by the struggle of two sins? This is a much different holiness than the ancients' view of a transforming passion that gives birth to virtue. On and on we could go, showing how 90 percent of our virtue is a sham, a vice wearing a coat and tie. That is why Jesus constantly pointed us to the heart..."

Reading this yet again today, I found myself rejoicing over the grace of God. In the gospel, I have been made the righteousness of God in Christ. No longer do I have to lean on my own understanding, depend on my own human performance, or compare myself to anyone else. I am certain that I am quite imperfect in the estimation of a friend or spouse or child or employer, but none of those people are God. In the estimation of God, I am fully accepted in the Beloved Son.

The gospel of this radical, divine love, as displayed in the finished work of Jesus, is the transforming passion that gives birth to true virtue....grace alone gives birth to accomplishments of any eternal value. He only is "Maker". I can not make of myself anything resembling true virtue. I have set a trumpet to my mouth in this regard, and intend to use it to make a clear and certain sound...trumpeting New Covenant glory...until I leave this earth for heaven, where I will take it up again for the same reason.

90 percent of "my" virtue is a sham. Thank God for the gift of the righteousness of God through Christ.

Powerful Hymn

My latest, most favorite song. I cannot hear this without tears. Oh, the riches of His glorious grace!


Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea,
A great high Priest whose Name is Love,
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart.
I know that while in heaven He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart,
No tongue can bid me thence depart.


When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end to all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died
My sinful soul is counted free,
For God, the Just, is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me,
To look on Him and pardon me.


Behold Him there, the risen Lamb,
My perfect, spotless righteousness,
The great unchangeable I AM,
The King of glory and of grace.
One with Himself, I cannot die,
My soul is purchased by His blood.
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God!

One with Himself, I cannot die,
My soul is purchased by His blood.
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God!

Can We Articulate It?

Grace. There is a "grace speak" that can only come after long acquaintence with the gospel of Christ. For example, I can hear a phrase in Spanish and I can make those sounds ,while not understanding a word I am saying. But those who speak the language can tell the difference.

On the other hand, if I immerse myself in Spanish culture....ah, that is entirely different. Fluency in the language comes. I can begin to pick up on inflection, nuance, and cadence.

There was a time in my life when I could make grace-sounds. After all...I had heard about grace, through some messages here and there in my short life. "By grace I am saved through faith, and that not of myself. It is the gift of God."

I had to have been not more than ten years old when I memorized that Bible verse. Therefore, as a grown woman, I thought I understood grace, and could speak about grace...what was there not to understand? I'd heard the "song" enough times before, I felt sure I could sing it.

Here is how I may have sounded:

English sounds, in a way, but no real words, and obviously no understanding. Likewise, I used to make grace- sounds...I could speak gospel syllables...but with no immersion in the truth, there was no clarity, no real personal impact beyond my own eternal security, and behavior modification.

Gentle reader, I am no Mariah Carey, but let me tell you. Today ~ I can sing the wonderous love of Jesus. I can sing His mercy and His grace. My language is effortless, passionate, and clear. I've been immersed in the gospel of Jesus - grace besotted, fluent and confident in all Christ has done...and consequently the old dialect of law, which distorts the language of grace whenever you try to mix them together, that old dialect of law has nearly disappeared altogether.

I speak native grace.

Now, when I speak about grace, the words and the phrases and the stories I tell all reveal immersion in the concept. I'm living it, not just repeating sermons I may have heard about it. Not just parroting doctrine. Not just singing songs that have no passionate and personal meaning to me.

No more "Ken leeeeeeee tulibu dibu douchoo."

Hallelujah-wahoojah!

Summer Breeze, Makes Me Feel Fine...

...the sun shines, a now-and-again breeze blows, as butterflies make their unpredictable trek across my back yard. Here in the 'burbs, we have "yards", and I couldn't be more proud or content with that reality. Come sit awhile at my table, under the shade of the umbrella, opened to its full width, sheltering you and I - you look like you could use a cold drink.



Settle back, and accept the heat and even the humidity. There is comfort in accepting some things exactly as they are. Relax into it, don't fight it, don't dislike it, because it just "is". You are in my back yard with me, at June's end, here in the luscious, luminous, languid South.



As soon as you begin to unwind, you'll start hearing all the tranquil layers of sound that surround us...the soft strains of a worship song carried by the outdoor speaker...my son and his friends playing in the pool in our neighbor's back yard....deep voices, laughter and splashing...birds singing...the breeze that makes the branches of the huge oak tree breathe, whisper, and do ballet...you will hear the windchimes. No one sound overpowers another; it all blends into a soft, watercolor sound-palette, no harsh edges.



I'm taking painting classes this summer, and with each new lesson, I am more and more in love with words. See, my mind is always making cross-applications. I'm the type of person who can watch an infomercial, and be smacked side-ways with a revelation into the ekklasia (the community of the called-out ones).



Words are my first love, in terms of art-form. I love their every nuance, cadence, and shade of color. I am compelled to trick-out my days with words, accessorizing my experiences, maximizing the joy. In more than one way, I am defined by the words I use.



Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks....words. Words spoken aloud, words spoken silently, they both equally will express and reveal what I truly believe, and what I believe will ultimately define who I am. A good woman, out of the good treasure of her heart, will speak good words. The things she says, even inside her head, will be good. Thus, the things that come out of her mouth will be good.



That Greek word for "treasure" (found in Matthew 12) is....well, you won't believe what it is. I just learned this today. That Greek word is....thesauros. Does that not just knock you out? Is that not crazy-delightful? Yup, we get our English word "thesaurus" from this Greek word, found in Matthew 12.



My heart is a treasury of words. As the Psalmist said, "my tongue is the pen of a ready writer."



I'll be quiet now. Sorry. I got carried away. I need to take my youngest son to work, now, but you just sit and relax. Make yourself at home - my back yard is your back yard...there is nothing better than summer in the south.

And a Very Happy Blog-Birthday to Me!

my very first picture, on my very first blog, last year. it took me forever to figure out how to do it! opening the door of my heart to the world was an unforgettable experience.

One year ago, this month, I plunged into the blog world. You can't quite call me "cutting edge" can you? I was a late comer to the blog scene, but that is just fine with me because I have a life to live, otherwise there ain't nothin' to blog about. I had been limping along for years with a used and always crashing laptop, and busy with life in general.


Last year, on Father's Day, Tim secretly got ME a new laptop. That was "his" 2008 Father's Day present. He's like that....and yes, I am blessed to be the most cherished wife in the world. Don't think I don't know. I am profoundly grateful every single day. I couldn't help but think about my husband, my laptop, and the birthday of my blog this past Sunday - Father's Day 2009.


I'll never forget clicking the icon "create blog". I'll never forget saying my first words. It felt like (timidly) opening the door to the world, and inviting them in for June peaches and pound cake.


And you came. You visited me! You like me! (How lame is it, to say that? I can't help it...) Lydia, Jamie, Ursula, Joel, Caryn, Chris and Christine, Dan, Jul, Ann, Donna Jean, Kim, Robyn - and so many more, along with my church family (who have indulged my passion for the computer keyboard, and borne with my need to write above and beyond the call of duty or friendship).


I have shared my passions, my home, my church, my children, a son's high school graduation, a daughter's wedding, birthdays and anniversaries, my heart and my thoughts and even a few of my secrets in this place, over the last twelve months. Blogging has been one of the sweeter blessings of my life, this past year. I am looking forward to my second year of seeing the world through the eyes of a writer - and more than that, through the eyes of a blogger. I hope I have been as gracious a guest on all of your blogs as you have been on mine.

Time is precious. Your time is most precious of all. I count it a joy and a privilege that you would spend even a minute or two with me here. Please come back and say hello when you can.


A toast: to blogging. Ain't it fun?

Collateral Repair

We've all heard the term "collateral damage". The term is defined as "inadvertent destruction." Often, collateral damages are the unintended consequence of war.

Months ago, my pastor-husband began teaching on grace in a way he has never taught it before. He's taught it before, he's counseled people in and inTO the grace of God for years, but very suddenly of late, he has latched onto the doctrines of grace, and began trumpeting and teaching them from the pulpit as if everything depended on God's people getting it. He has not let up for weeks and weeks and weeks. It has been work.

My hero.

And it has been a war of sorts. Only...this war has had much collateral repair. There has been many an instance of collateral healing - both physically (in small ways, so far) and emotionally.

Just today, after our time of corporate worship, a dear friend and sister in the faith came to me and shared in detail about a huge emotional healing that has taken place in her life....one that she wasn't actively seeking. In fact, she pretty much woke up, and realized she has been healed from a deep emotional wound she has carried for two decades.

No one "taught to" her issue. No seminars. No list of "steps to emotional healing". No one telling her to grow up and get on with it. (She's tried that before.) She told me that it has been the emphasis on the grace of God that has brought this amazing collateral healing into her life. This is her analysis, not mine. I witness with it mightily in the Spirit.

Inadvertent, life altering blessing. Collateral repair.

Keep preaching it, beloved pastor-husband of mine! Happy Father's Day. Our God is on the move.

Grace

Grace is the unmerited smile of God. If glory is the dance of humans with God, grace is the ballroom – wide and free because there is much room. Grace is not a tiny little dance with thin music and stingy steps. This dance is large and free. It never constricts us. It is never set to measure how wrong the dancer or how foolish his elation. Grace saves with celestial music and redeems us, never pointing out to us the end we might have had, if we had not chosen Christ as our life partner. ~Calvin Miller

Stolen Snapshot

Stolen from Kelly's Blog, "Conformed To His Image" (see blogroll to the left...).

(L-R) Amy, me, Kelly, Lisa, Megan, Rhonda, Sarah, Angela, and our nurseLinda kneeling. Hannah took the picture, so she's not in this one.

I saw the best fanny -pack. Fanny- pack, not fanny. Ahem. Far be it from me, typically, to ever want or wear a fanny-pack. Even at forty-something, I am still slightly conscious of my "cool". I, who hiked without one, discovered they are the best things for a semi-long hike. I saw one with TWO waterbottles, one on each side, and the usual compartment in the middle. It looked very outdoorsy...sporty...I could work a fanny pack like that. I could make it look like the coolest fanny pack ever, and all middle aged women everywhere, who have previously avoided fanny packs as much as they have avoided "mom jeans", would want one.

I just might actually have to walk into a Gander Mountain store, and get one. I, who only darken the doors of the girly places like Ann Taylor - unfortunately to covet, never to actually shop - may actually search out a cool fanny pack. Someone please stop me, though, if you see me trying on the back packs with the weird-y ski poles.

A Saturday Spent With Friends

Ingredients for a Perfect Day ~

Take a moss covered tree, a 6 mile hike, with lots of time for conversation...


Add a gorgeous, tumbling river, the sound of which gets into your soul, bringing deep restoration....

Toss in ten women, each with an acute sense of humor, along with the prospect of LUNCH - stir vigorously...

The culmination of The Perfect Day. (By this time, we were absolutely starving.) See the river in the background? And the dollar bills on the wall? We signed our own dollar bill, and added it to the collection.

Harvest Women. Nothin' and no one in this world like 'em. They will fill you with shock and awe, make you laugh, and bless you so big you can't even begin to understand the lifestyle until you've lived it.

I love you girls! I wish each and every one of you could have come.

A Bit of Dark Humor

Yesterday, my daughter Hannah got her lovely, long brunette hair cut short, and she came by the house to show me her new hairdo. Adorable! Her new husband Justin thought it looked very cute. And I couldn't wait for her twin sister Sarah to get home.


Because before Hannah left, she put a gift on her sister's bed. Sarah had no idea.


Oh, I was howling and cackling. Sorry for the horrible mixing of metaphors (I picture a chicken with fangs...) but truly, I laughed until I hurt and the tears rolled.


Here is what Sarah came home to, neatly arranged in a tiny gift bag, complete with matching tissue paper and a card:



The card, which Sarah read before opening the gift of course, said, "Dear Sarah, I miss you so much! I got you a gift for those days when you miss me too. You can put it anywhere you want...under your pillow...hang it from the rear view mirror of your car...enjoy!"

Yup. Sarah, who adores getting presents, put her hand in the gift bag, and excitedly pulled out her "gift".

She. Freaked. Out. She threw it across the room, in a confused panic.

Hannah, posing with her old ponytail...

The evil plot is hatched...




Gleefully preparing her "gift"...

I don't know WHERE she gets the dark sense of humor. ::sniff:: Ahem. Oh, and by the way, the cut portion is gorgeous and shiny and bouncy, and is being donated to "Locks of Love". Well, that is, if we can convince Sarah to take it out from under her pillow....

What's New and Different These Days... In Pictures

Two generations of married couples...Tim and I on the left, Hannah and Justin, right.

Hannah's old room is now your guest room...when you come stay with us, here is where you'll be. Please pardon my treadmill, but I love having it in front of the window facing our pond!

No longer "the boys' room", now that Josiah has moved out, this is Isaac's room, with new-to-him drums, and TV (for video games only - this TV won't pick up channels.)

Tim got me roses this past week..."just because".

My Mother's Day gift from Tim...an orchid. (Jamie Weeks - how do I keep this beauty alive?)

Just 6 weeks ago, this was a table for 6. Tonight, my heart finally caught up with reality, and I re-set it for 4. Soon, this will be a table for 2.

Snapped just now, in my back yard...

The butterfly garden is beginning to blossom.

Some new additions! (Foxglove)

Final Picture, I Promise (maybe...)

I think it is funny how Tim, Hannah, and I are looking three different directions. It was understandable! We had our dear friend Lesa as designated photographer...and there were friends, grandparents, aunties, and who knows who else also snapping pictures. You should see the short video clip on my Facebook page, recording the moment Justin and Hannah arrived at the reception. The cameras flashing made it look like some sort of red carpet event! Hannah was a rock star...

Wordless (Almost) Wednesday

My daughter Sarah, maid of honor (in the background) and her twin sister, Hannah, who is now Mrs. McConnell.

At least a half dozen people, besides the family, have emailed, called, or told me face to face that it was the most beautiful wedding, and most delightful reception they had ever seen or been part of. There might be more who have told me this, but I can tic off a half dozen names off the top of my head. The presence of the Lord, and the fellowship of the saints, was most manifest and precious.

My Jesus. My church. Both, the best.

We, the Atchleys, could have never pulled this once-in-a-lifetime event off properly by ourselves. Truly, it is "not him who wills or him who runs", not by might nor by power, the race is not to the swift...some trust in chariots some in horses but we will remember the name of our God.

We, by our own efforts and our own resources, could not have made Hannah's wedding day what it was! Had we had the "average" $25,000 budget, we could not have made it what it was. Jesus was there, figuratively turning water to wine, making the sweetness that was in the atmosphere.

He, alone, is Maker.

Identity Issues...

No, I cannot "make myself" as God. I cannot make anything, in fact. I can only imitate, never originate. If there is anything good in me, anything good in my life, it originated from the only Maker there is.

Yet I can claim, with total confidence, that God is my Father. This means, through the substitutionary sacrifice of Christ, and through the indwelling Holy Spirit, I share certain characteristics with Dad. And I want to be like Him.

"As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” I Peter 1

What was this former ignorance? I believe we can be ignorant of the gospel, either having never heard it, or having been indoctrinated with works-based churchianity instead. I believe we can be ignorant of who we are, in Christ. Passions can only change with a change in identity. Identity determines conformity.

This is proven, end over end, in areas such as our sexual identity, or our identity with a socio-economic group. From homosexual to heterosexual, from gangster to street person to social snob, we act like what or who we identify with. We never rise above what or who we identify with.

All the self-sown fig leaves in the world can't cover me (see previous post), if all I can identify with is my sin. I can work hard to be holy till the cows come home, yet I will never be able to "make myself".

But I can imitate what God originates. I can identify with His fatherhood, and my sonship.

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as (in the same way) God in Christ forgave you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as (in the same way) Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (end of Eph. 3, beginning of 4)

Identity matters. To closely imitate someone, we must first closely identify with them. You identify first, then imitate next....not attempt to imitate first, then identify next.

Yes, it matters. The order matters. The relationship between first and second things matters.

The Lord, Our Maker

"In the beginning, God made..."

And He is still making today, and in fact is the only One who can make. God was the only one in the business of making, all the way back before time began. The first couple of chapters in Genesis is full of the phrase, "God made."

We find the first instance of anything "man made" in Genesis 3:

Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves coverings.

And look who else tried to "make himself":

"(Lucifer said) I will make myself like the most High." (Isaiah 14:14)

Friends, there is only one Maker. The moment you and I try to make ourselves anything, we are fallen. Just as Adam and Eve fell, just as Lucifer was seen falling from heaven. My righteousness is that of Another. God has made for me a final covering for every sin, past, present and future. I no longer need to make a covering for myself. And I certainly cannot, by any sort of sheer willpower, make myself holy...as holy as God. How satanic!

You cannot make yourself successful. You cannot make yourself acceptable. You cannot make yourself righteous. You cannot make yourself a living. You cannot make yourself safe. You cannot make yourself strong. You cannot make yourself wise or "educated". You have nothing you were not given by THE Maker. There are no self made men or women in God's house. Of yourself, you can do nothing. He, Himself, and by Himself makes all things.

Let I Corinthians 1:30 permeate your thinking, as you ponder the Lord, who is the only Maker:

"but of God are you in Christ Jesus, who is made for us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption: that, according as it is written, he who boasts, let him boast in the Lord!"

The Prince of Preachers...

C. H. Spurgeon has been called the "prince of preachers". When you read this, you might see why:

Let us think of his greatness; it will be really praising him if we thus think of him. You need not speak, but just ponder, weigh, consider, contemplate, meditate on the character of the Most High.

Begin with his mercy if you cannot begin with his holiness, but take his attributes one by one and think about them. As you think of any one of them, it will delight you and carry you away.
You will be lost in wonder, love, and praise as you consider it; you will be astonished and amazed as you plunge into its wondrous depths, and everything else will vanish from your vision.

That is one way of making God great—by often thinking about him.

The next way to make God great is by often drinking him into yourself. The lilies stand and worship God simply by being beautiful – by drinking in the sunlight and dewdrops. Stand before the Lord and drink him in; you understand what I mean by this expression?

You go down to the seaside when you are sickly; there is a delightful breeze coming up from the sea; you feel as it came in at every pore of your body and you seem to be drinking in health at every breath you breathe.

Do just like that in a spiritual sense with God; go down to the great sea of Godhead; magnify it by thinking how great it is, and then take it into your very soul.

God cannot be greater than he is, but he can be greater in you than he is at present. He cannot increase; there cannot be more of God than there is, but there may be more of God in you.
Therefore, make him great in that respect.

~Charles Haddon Spurgeon

When It's All Been Said and Done...

A ballet dance, to the song "When It's All Been Said and Done", in honor of the bride and groom, at the wedding reception. These Harvest girls are gifted dancers....

When it's all been said and done
There is just one thing that matters
Did I do my best to live for truth?
Did I live my life for you?

When it's all been said and done
All my treasures will mean nothing
Only what I have done
For love's reward
Will stand the test of time

Lord, your mercy is so great
That you look beyond our weakness
That you found purest gold in miry clay
Turning sinners into saints

I will always sing your praise
Here on earth and in heaven after
For you've joined me at my true home
When it's all been said and done
You're my life when life is gone...

One Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

There simply are no words to describe. Yet.

It was a fairy tale sort of evening....

Of Friends and Memories

Hannah, getting her hair done...

We held the wedding rehearsal tonight, and due to the prayers of my online community, and the saints of Harvest Church, it went stunningly well. We were in and out in about an hour and a half, and after the rehearsal, all twenty-something of us had delicious meals at the Macaroni Grill, a local Italian restaurant. I am so grateful to Mark and Beverly McConnell for their generous gift. It was a lovely evening.

Tim and I left the restaurant, only to discover that I'd left my purse at the church. So we drove all the way back to the church, and in the stillness, I snapped a few pictures.

The sanctuary, quietly waits for the big day...



A Picture Within a Picture

Decorating the porch rails....

And now, this mom will fall into bed, dreaming of those evenings when my girls would snuggle up beside me as I read them poems and stories. This is our Hannah's last night at home ~ her final evening spent as an Atchley. This time tomorrow, she will be a McConnell.