cathedral

It’s been a while 🙂

 

All I want to be is a far far cry from who I am.

The bottom stanza’s lines are meant to be read above-below, above-below… re-read for a varying meaning, but still accurate.

cathedrals

days:

slow and steady

long walks 

flowering cactuses of May

too beautiful and tiring

sitting in the S. Concho

mid-summer’s day

people:

lively faces of my family

handsomest face of my love

familiar smiles of friends

 

 seen:

Europe’s thousand year old cathedrals

how lovely and how empty

only a memoir of the fervent faith

once captivating nations

beautiful, but hauntingly tragic,

castles and palaces,

Rome, Paris, Barcelona,

Amsterdam’s canals,

Tuscany’s Vineyards,

 

all beauty:

all adventure

all but a shadow

compared to the grace

God still shows me

many things

I don’t understand

His grace

I am more shaken by

every year of life

though I trample and ruin,

squander, disgrace, 

run away from,

He has never changed

His mind.

I pray our souls

to be more

than a beautiful memoir.rome

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foggy

Friday Morning (February 16th)

Denis King 5

photos by: Denis King (my great uncle) 

Denis King 6

photos by: Denis King (my great uncle) 

Denis King 4

photos by: Denis King (my great uncle) 

foggy

on many a foggy morning

my anxious hopes reside

hues of pink, orange, and purple,

low sitting clouds won’t hide

of all uncertain hours ahead

before me beams a certainty

promise to be steadfastly led

be still my soul, looking to Thee

though cedar and oak are thickly veiled

the daybreak sparks all gazes up

low visibility, I am held

Taste of San Angelo in my coffee cup

morning prayers upon my dusty dash

cling like caliche on the car

hopeful, anxious, stubborn, alive,

foggy beginnings, we’ve come so far

greenhouse

 

Stubborn, picking ourselves up by our bootstraps, and taking the cedar bushes with the Oak, I guess you could say.

 

to coax me in to such a trap

no, I won’t go

who’ll take me back?

a house of glass, with no four seasons

I sit outside, with all my reasons

frost nipping leaves

turing them to brown

no fortress from the cold I’ve found

temperature control’s just not my style

pride will keep me warm a while

braving all the winter’s frost

though bare I seem, not all is lost

stubborn, but hardy, they all grow back

..

..

Cannas survive rugged terrain,

so will I, until spring remain

a place to begin

Every year, I realize how much more I don’t know. The best place to begin is in a place of thankfulness.

 

for grace that has gone before and behind

for all of the beauty still to unwind

friendships that refresh mind and soul

I only see part, but God has it in whole

family that holds you when everything’s wrong

old truths, Sunday mornings, sung like a new song

for Dads that change tires, rewire, and repair

for moms that ask many questions, and color our hair

reading books to students in my first year class

praying for wisdom as time and seasons pass

like an old flame of heart, fighting the wind,

like a dance, you don’t know, but don’t want to end,

the voices I love and respect echo in my heart

thankful, is the best place for our New Year to start

 

 

Killing the Foliage

foliage

There is a myth among our culture that reaching your goals and dreams will be satisfactory. Goals and dreams are fantastic, but they are also seasonal and ornamental to the soul of man.

Killing the Foliage

First, we blame the temperature

Tender leaves hitting the ground

Raining vibrant color

Crushed with too loud a sound

The farthest out

The first too go

A process beautiful

A process slow

Lovely dreams hung up

They decorated the season

Bitter, cold October morning

Fell without rhyme or reason

Begin to think it’s over

This stripping, so unfair

But still they cling

Near to the trunk

Not yet solemnly bare

Determined is the Winter

Won’t let you keep

Just one or two

No ornamental dream

Will justly do

Every single one

Must find it’s DOD

Determined heart laid bare

Before His Deity

 

 

 

Formable

Sutherland

Man…. Life is much more sacred than any words I could ever pen. Sacred are the lives lost in the Lord’s House this morning in Sutherland Springs, Texas.

It is disturbing for me to think how often I have faced a classroom full of innocent and inquisitive 10 year olds this year [already] in the light of national tragedies. That said, I am not perplexed my evil. Evil predictably takes low blows… I’ve seen it too many times to be surprised. More perplexing yet, is grace. May the church say to the world today exactly what God will use. We are in prayer for you FBC Sutherland Springs, for your families, and for your community.

Form

Formable minds we face,

Form is crucial to each case,

Form a heart in us like Yours,

Formalities outside our doors,

Formative assessment our day to day,

Former of galaxies dwell richly, we pray.

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.

Psalm 34:18

 

 

Calmed and Carried

We always want the synopsis, but I think God is a great storyteller. We’d simply miss too many sweet moments of laughter, tears, and intimacy with Him if we just got the synopsis. I’ll never fully realize the staying power of His hand, but He’ll just keep proving it on this side, and on the next.

This is a short little draft from July….

I (we) may be stubborn, but God’s affections have staying power that are set upon us even more stubbornly than we could ever boast of being. Says the stubborn girl.

Many trials I’ll leave behind,

Stormy stories I’ll tell,

How Jesus calmed and carried me,

He knows me all too well,

Still I feel the anxious rush,

Of setting out to sea,

My faith is but a mustard seed,

Healer of Heaven,

Hear my plea,

Believer,

Trying to be a Walker,

Full of Him,

But full of me,

Asking for His Spirit,

Mercy wraps my soul,

Presence rich and clear,

Wanting nothing more than staying power,

Forever in Your hand,

An olive leaf, a sign of land.

When the dove returned to him in the evening, there in its beak was a freshly plucked olive leaf! Then Noah knew that the water had receded from the earth. Genesis 8:11

paradoxical themes

“I bought these shoes for pi phi date parties and formal.” -Alexa SykesIMG_0643

 

 

 

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^Cross-eyed from getting hit by a truck, but star-crossed lucky to be rescued.

Words are good. Stories are better, but they are also better saved for face to face. These are a few of the paradoxical themes in my stories right now. I sure do love a story with a good theme 🙂 .

 

Intentionally Remember

To be thankful and grateful, you are blessed

Intentionally Forget and Forgive

Grudges you hold, or they’ll hold you

Intentionally Speak 

Truth in all boldness, while it can still be heard

Intentionally Listen 

To others in a spirit apt to understand, they say more than their words

Intentionally Sow 

In all diligence of heart

Intentionally Reap

In all discernment of the ripest season

Intentionally Accept

People exactly as the imperfect and beautiful people they are

Intentionally Reject

The presumptuous views, or “should be” things burdening you

 

 

Generate

It is a reckoning of contrasts…. God’s faithfulness and our infidelity towards Him (Book of Jonah) . Such an enduring warmth that abides in His love and affection…no circumstances– not death, abuse, disease, brokenness, or anything else that feels frozen in finality is able to fend off the warmth of a Redemptive God.

I’ve been inspired upon reading some of my great great grandmother’s poetry and prayers this week, to write some more myself. She was a tiny, half-Native American, Pentecostal, farmer’s wife with six (maybe five, I could be wrong) children….but coolest of all– very evidently fervent for the things of God!

 

 

Twenty-three or so Degrees Tilted

Sizzling days o summer

Nights so sparkle and so shine

Crisp like waffles

Football weather

Touch of the Divine

Chilling winter walks

Breath in hot contrast

Growth neath newest chirps

Oh, let our love outlast

My simple fascinations

timely, temporary treasure

And when I’m seasoned

Over and Over

It still holds me together

Come Father Time, Come Mother Nature,

tradition, transition, any danger,

Yea Calvary hath proved to me

Death owns no final say

God Himself, so Faithful,

Many generations,

Day After Day

Load Up

Of many sweet & tragic days

My feet have trod the road

Time again used up my strength

You transfer my load

Unto your pack, to help my feet

Continue up the hill

Though stubborn is my tendency

You pick up the bill

How often I desire to be a strong and helping hand

Soul weary shoes, broken heart

Failed attempts to stand

Time as molasses, Nature all array

Warmth of Your Eternal Spirit

Anchors life this way

Another Rotation

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(December 2011)

Life rotates so fasts, it leaves my head spinning. Last time I lived at home, my sweet little brother looked like this^. Now he’s capable of taking Lexy and I both out. Luckily, he’s still one of kindest-hearted people I know, and doesn’t pummel us :).

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(December 2016, Bronco Playoff game)

I took an ice-skating class one semester at A&M as a required kinesiology credit, and when we learned to spin, they taught us to choose a point of focus. On every rotation, look for that point again and again and again. Maybe there is something to that, I thought. Even if you go a few spins without finding your point of focus, stay on your feet with searching eyes. For me, that point of focus has to do with faith. Every trying circumstance puts fear into our hearts of falling, failing, and potential being down for the count. But, it also ignites a fire in our searching hearts and eyes to stay up. Stay up. Stay up. Even as the earth rotates on it’s axis, it maintains its point of focus on the North Star (don’t get technical on me, I know it is slowly changing). This point of focus causes seasons, which could be an additional analogy :). Analogies are my favorite avenue of communication.

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(August 2016, San Juan Mts.)

Just around the next “turn” could be a mountaintop lake at 12,000ft. Last August, while backpacking in the San Juan Mountains, we woke up at 4 AM for “peak day.” After peaking at nearly 14, 000 ft. around 8 in the morning, it felt like a marathon to turn around and seek out this lake. To be frank, I didn’t want to gain that kind of altitude again. Sometimes we all just need a push to find the kind of beauty we long to partake in on this side of heaven. A push to jump in the lake ;). Or someone else to do it first, hah. Usually God provides one of those, “I’ll go first,” people for me. —> Dearest Lexy, that is you.

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(December 2016, Alexa picked up this chameleon without thinking twice, lol)

This kind of beauty looks a million different ways to me. To name a sparse few: it is phone conversations with dear friends, the smell of stargazer lilies, good books, all the catch up session walks we’ve counted as workouts, talking about everything and nothing really, the gift of working closely with families I love, rocking babies in my favorite canyon’s summer air, seeing and being a part of outsiders welcomed in, floating the river, praying together, cliff jumping, dancing, guitar music around a fire in the fall, homemade brownies and ice cream, shooting guns with dad, Blayzey’s football games, doing something I love as a career, consistency, and seeing people grow. Beauty is one of those transcendent things that connects our hearts to the eternity which lies in wait as believers in Christ.

Very very very few days are “peak days,” but there is so much life to be found in the valley. Geographically speaking, there are often rivers running through valleys. The places most beautiful places I know are also some of the most challenging to reach. It’s all part of the analogy, so let’s keep pushing each other; let the oxygen gained on this turn ignite a fire in our wanderlust hearts… aliens and strangers, yet neighbors, friends, and family.

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(August 2017, Devil’s River)