In May I went to a ladies retreat on the Oregon coast. It was a wonderful weekend that made me wish for some time with my friend Linda. I'd met Linda and her husband in 1995, shortly before I moved to Uganda, East Africa to join the mission team that they'd started. 15 years later, sitting in the chapel at a retreat, I was thinking about Shawn and Linda preparing to move back to the U.S. after 31 years as missionaries. The retreat speaker was great, but she didn't have a chance of keeping my attention as phrases started running through my mind about transitioning back to life in America. Then the phrases began to rhyme, and soon they had become a Dr. Seuss inspired story just begging to be written.
At first my plan was just to write a fun story that I could share with Shawn and Linda, and then I began to doodle pictures. One picture led to another, and what's a picture without color? As much as I love color, I love color with texture more... You get the idea.
From the first phrases running through my mind until I held a copy of "This Is Not My Home" was about four months. Though I wasn't sure I'd pull it together, it was worth it when I got to give Shawn and Linda a copy of their book and welcome them "home."
I love flowers! I'm not terribly fond of trying to keep them alive, but I love their endless variety, colors and textures.
Yesterday the Senior Pastor at the church where I work took us to Windmill Gardens, a nursery in nearby Sumner, as appreciation for those of us who comprise the church's support staff. We got to roam, savor, pick out a container, and fill it with plants that we would continue to enjoy.
I wanted to give my container a fighting chance, so I called my sister (the one in the family with the greenest thumb) and asked what I should put in my pot. She advised me based on the sun, shade, and all of the other things that you apparently are supposed to consider. I managed to chose plants and get them into them transferred to their new home, but they were fearful. Rumors has been circulating among the foliage about my not-so-green thumb.
Thankfully, as I ran out the door in the morning I'd remembered to grab my camera. Instead of planning a flower bed or hanging basket like most of the people around me, I went from one color to another, trying to decide what to focus on next. Getting up close to the flowers, delighting in their details, and being amazed by the One who took the time to fashion each bloom - Wow! That was worship!
See more pictures from my day with the flowers...
It's November in Washington State, and though we had a few unseasonably sunny days early on, it's been predictably and predominately gray. Some people dread this time of year because of its grayness, but the drabness of the weather just increases the challenge to find details that are interesting.
Last Sunday during a break in the rain I grabbed the opportunity to take out the garbage. I'm not really sure what prompted me to grab my camera (the garbage does not usually inspire my creative flair), but my journey to the dumpster turned into a hunt for spectacular color and texture. I found it!
Looking out my window, all I'd been able to see was a monotone and featureless day. However on my short walk I found lots of yummy details to savor - rough bark, weathered wood, rusty nails, peeling paint, and a perfect row of tiny mushrooms.
Thinking "Out Loud"
I think about being creative. A lot. I think about color and texture almost as often. My goal with this blog is to think "out loud" about these things that bring me such delight.