Paraiso

All photos by bgrace except the one I´m in.  Daren took that one. 

(All unedited by the way.  The color is the real deal.)

Praia

No Words

Curtain Call

So a curtain call comes at the end.  But I took this picture before the show started.  I love the look of it.  Can't really tell if something just happened or is about to happen.  One usually is a sign of the other.  Right now I just can't wait until the plane door seals shut and there isn't one more thing I can possibly feel like I should do or could do. 

And then it will be the end.

And the beginning. 

2 1/2 fingers left... 

(Check out more of Grace's dance photos on the B Girls Blog Link below.)

Reason for the Season

Photo by Bgrace

Sarah is not exactly where I want her in terms of how she feels about Christmas.  Let's just say there are a few things she needs to work through.
I was curled up into my favorite part of the morning today.  The memory of Matt's kiss goodbye still lingered on my neck.  I was drifting in that place between wake and sleep.  Ken and Katherine say it's the best time to capture lessons from night school.  Peter Pan says its when fairies appear. 
I like the quiet before the chaos of the day begins.  I like how my blankets feel warm against the cold air.  I try to let my feelings surface and make their way into a prayer but I often meander back into dreams.  Driftings between heaven and Never Never Land belong to that hour. 
So when Sarah crawled in to "cuddle" I tried to prolong the inevitable getting up as much as possible.  She tends to be talkative in the morning.  I tried that angle.
"Guess how many days are left before we go to Brazil?"
"How many?" she asked excitedly.
"Seven," I said and then help up two fingers on one hand and five on the other. (It's so much easier now that it's less than 10.) 
"Are you excited to see Sparky?" My Father tells her all sorts of stories about his dog.
"Yes!  Did he grow?" she exclaimed.  I laughed because Sparky is small, but he isn't a puppy anymore.
"Do you know whose Birthday we're celebrating on Christmas?" I asked. 
"Me?" she asked.  I shook my head.  "You?" "Em?" 
"Nope," I said, "It's Baby Jesus' Birthday."
Her face clouded over.  "I don't like Baby Jesus." 
"Why not?" I asked in surprise.
"I don't like Him.  I hate Him." 
I tried a little coaxing. I told her about how he was born in a barn with cows and sheep.  It wasn't enough.  I was tempted to scold her, but instead I said, "Well, He loves you very much.  He is your Christmas present."
I get that she's reacting this way because she doesn't understand.  I didn't know how to explain that Jesus wasn't trying to keep all our gifts for Himself or crash our Christmas party.  She couldn't grasp that He is not only the gift but the reason for the celebration. 
Sam decided to join us and plopped himself on top of Sarah and started licking her "clean."  I picked up Story (Steven James) which I have been rereading off and on for a while.  I started where I had left off, and began the chapter on New Wine.  It connected a lot with me, but more specifically about my conversation with Sarah. 
James is telling a story:
On their wedding day, Alon comes to Rachel--who was betrothed to him by her Father--and says,

"Your Father has said yes to our marriage, but I would rather have your approval than his.  You know the tradition--once you step across the threshold of my home, we're married." 

"Yes, I know."

"I don't want you to come in unless that yes comes from your heart and not just your Father's."

In our country only a man of men would offer a bride such a choice.

Jesus is a man of men.  He gives Sarah the same choice.  I know how incredibly important it is for her to hear about His love from me.  I also know that it is even more important that she believe it because she hears it from God Himself.  The Spirit of God must prepared the way and reveal Himself to her.  I cannot force her to receive His love and God won't. When she is able to listen I can try and help her understand who He is and what He has done.  But there is a critical process that she must go through that I must honor and I can't rush.  She will have a choice. 

I hope that Sarah learns not to be threatened by Jesus. I hope that she will soon understand that there is so much more in His love than what is waiting for her under the tree Christmas morning.  So much that she will never settle for earthly things in light of the eternity He offers her.  But because I love Sarah, I need to let her be honest with me about how she feels now without fear that I will reject her.  I don't want her to accept Baby Jesus because I want her to, but because she trusts and believes that He truly is God's most precious gift to her. 
So this Christmas I'm going to ask God to help me know how to show Sarah my love for her, and how it comes from this same Baby Jesus and that she can trust Him even more than me. And I'm going to wait in hope that she will choose Him because she believes Him.
My prayer is that God will reveal His love to her in a way that the only choice she wants to make is to love Him in return. 
In fact, I'll pray that prayer for all of us.

Love Covers

Falling Together

We don't all go through seasons of change in concert.  In two weeks I'll be entering summer on the day most of you will be entering the first day of winter.  I often feel like I'm in a different season than most people. But there are those brief moments when we seem to be in the same place at the same time.  In those moments we can feel like one.  Maybe even really be one.  Not forging ahead alone or trying to catch up from behind. We can see the same things, hear the same songs, write the same lines, maybe even breath the same air in our lungs.

It's an Oasis.  A rest in the desert.

But winter will close you in soon and lock you up under it's cold blanket, in it's white safety.

And me?

Well, I'm going to be stringing a hammock under those palm trees, drinking out of coconuts, and using only enough sunscreen to keep skin cancer at bay.  Oh--and flirting with seagulls.

This is the thought we can share until then.  Love covers over a multitude of sins. 

Sometimes with snow.  Sometimes with waves. 

Rest in that.

L

We're not quite ready to look each other in the eye.

Where the soul can't lie.

Too afraid of what we'll find.

That we'll be more lost or left behind.

As if we're not lost now. 

But if you want, I'll sit next to you.

In the warm red sun.

Our eyes closed, spirits entwined.

Open the pain up together. 

You can feel yours with mine.

After all, they're one and the same.

Well, maybe, but I'm not sure.

Once the layers of guilt and shame

Stop playing their games
I think what's left of the pain
Will be white pure.
The place where saints are given a new name.
Where priests are given to cure.
Maybe then we'll find the courage
to let ourselves love each other
at the same time.