All things nice . . .

 

 

(source)

A dream house that just sort of grew

Stone upon stone with halls and stairs,

Shaping itself into a home,

As if in answer to your prayers.

A house that took on width and shape,

Under the hammer and the plane,

Stout on its oaken beams and sills,

Its roof secure against the rain.

Small rooms that grew beneath the eaves,

Like cabins on a sturdy ship,

A graveled walk up to the door,

Rolled level as a landing strip.

A fireplace whose generous flue,

Gave promise of a steady draw,

A shelf above the cellar way,

Showing the tooth-print of a saw.

A picture window wide and deep,

That made a frame for half outdoors,

Where trees and vines and growing things,

Cast dancing shadows on the floors.

A home where family ties were deep,

And love was there to hold and keep.

~Edna Jaques, A Dream House

Fireside Poems, 1950

Fireside Poems was the book of poems that my mother kept in her bookcase for all of my growing up years. I can't tell you how many times I read it during that time. My mother let me take with me when I moved out West.  It is what made me fall in love with the poetry of Edna Jaques. I had to leave that old volume back in the UK when I moved back to Canada two years ago but was happily able to buy another copy. Edna's poetry speaks to the heart of my Canadian soul. It also reminds me of my childhood, and a much simpler, less complicated way of life.  Core values. Honest truths. I never tire of reading her words. Never.

 

(source)

I think that home is more of a feeling than a place. It is a feeling of belonging, of safety, of comfort. Home can be another person, a country, a town, or yes . . . four walls. Home wraps you up and holds you close. It whispers stay; you are safe here. You are loved here. You belong here.

That motel room that welcomed me on that cold November night almost two years ago now, with the fire burning in the grate, the bouquet of flowers on the table and the welcome note from my sister, felt like home to me, after a long and arduous, heart wrenching journey.  I will always be grateful for her care and ability to help to soften the blow of something which was probably one of the most difficult experiences in my life. Although it was not a place I had ever been before and a place I wouldn't stay at for very long, I knew that I had come home.

I love my little home. It is my haven in a world that is often very difficult to navigate. I could never have known two years ago that I would end up so content.  Or that I would be so blessed. I hoped that I would, but every day was a step of faith.  One by one those little steps of faith led me here, and I am at peace.  

My house, is a very, very fine house,

with two cats in the yard,

life used to be so hard,

now everything is easy

coz of you.

Life is much better than I could ever have hoped that it would be.  I know and recognize my blessings each and every day, and I give thanks for them accordingly.  

Life is a funny thing.  One of my childhood homes is just a stones-throw from where I live now.  I can look out my back door and see it. When I was a child and living in that house, I could never have predicted the journey life would take me on, or where it would bring me.  It is the same for everyone . . . we, none of us, ever know where we are going to end up, or where our life's journey will take us.  

 

(source)

Above all, trust in the slow work of God

We are quite naturally impatient in everything

to reach the end without delay.

We should like to skip the intermediate stages.

We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown,

Something new.

And yet it is the law of all progress

That it is made by passing through some stages of instability -

and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you;

Your ideas mature gradually - let them grow,

let them shape themselves, without undue haste.

Don't try to force them on,

as though you could be today what time

(and that is to say grace and circumstances

acting on your own good will)

will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit

gradually forming within you will be.

Give Our Lord the benefit of believing

that his hand is leading you,

and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself

in suspense and incomplete.

~Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, S.J.

1881-1955

I read this last night in bed, and it resonated deep within me. So much so that I knew I had to share it with you. We are such impatient creatures. We want what we want, and we want it now.  These last few years I have had to temper my desires and wants within the fire of God's will for me. I have very much had to wait on His timing and to rely on His grace. I have learned, or attempted to learn, the art of patience. I can say with a surety that good things can come to those who wait upon the timing of the Lord and who trust in His goodness and will for them. Prayers are always answered.  Maybe not always in the ways that we expect them to be, and sometimes the answers are not the ones we were seeking. But always to our betterment, if that makes sense.

 

I had never expected that this is the way my life would end up, and yet somehow, here I am. I have learned to be content with where I am. I love my little home and my little life. I love my furry little family members. I am grateful for the journey which has brought me here, all the highs and the lows. I like who I am and who I have become, and the journey is all a part of that which brought me here. A part of my becoming.

All my life I have been caring for others. Now, for the first time, I am learning how to care for me in a way I always should have.  It's a very freeing place to be. I truly love my life, and I am ever grateful for the journey which has brought me here, to this good place.

A thought to carry with you . . . 

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛

˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★

*A powerful expression of that love

is what the scriptures often call the Grace of God

The divine assistance and endowment of strength

by which we grow from the flawed and limited beings

we are now, into exalted beings of truth and light.

~Dieter F Uchtdorf•。★★ 。* 。•。★★ 。* 。 

Today, in The English Kitchen, Irish Blaeberry Pudding.  A blueberry pudding with a sweet/tart fruity base, topped with a buttery, tender and rich cake. It is perfect spooned into bowls warm and served topped with lashings of cool cream, or warm custard or a scoop of cold ice cream.

Have a wonderful Saturday. Whatever you get up to, don't forget!

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And I do too!