Saudade

When I say
I miss you

I do not
speak lightly

There have been
a hundred goodbyes

Perhaps
a thousand

I have boarded
a million planes

Or stood at
security gates

And waved
a billion waves

And then
I have

Moved
on

There is no moving on
from you

You are
here

Roots wound
firmly

Through
my heart

-lisa, 18 March, 2012

Moonset

We rose as the moon was setting
waning gibbous
sleepy-headed moon

We watched it
hesitating there
above the dark line of trees

Then we turned east

Roll on to bed, then
wake up the day

I thought of you
Moon Boy

This lovely lunar light
may it rise softly
over you

Making a Book (Part 2)

It's been a l-o-n-g time since I posted the first part of this little story of how my book came to be. I'm not entirely sure why I never got back to finishing the tale but let's not worry about that.

(Find Part 1 here )

I left off after signing the contract and settling down to write. The wonderful thing about that window of writing in the summer of 2009 was that it was so life-giving. I thought it was going to be lonely because Byron and the kids left me at home in town while they ventured out with groups of visitors and volunteers for a few different stints. They left me behind in the (astonishingly) quiet house for a few little stretches of up to about 10 days at a time and, guess what--it wasn't lonely at all. I fell right into a routine of sitting at my desk every morning and writing for a good portion of the day. I had this orderly little centering exercise of tea and prayer before I launched into my day that helped to soothe my sense of total inadequacy. The inadequacy wasn't so much in regard to the actual writing. The inadequacy came in the face of the subject matter. I was settling down daily to talk about metaphors that might help us build relationship with God. Any shaking in my shoes or trembling of knees under my desk was well founded.

But, I loved it. Honestly, it was an incredible privilege to have focused writing time and, apparently, my joy showed. Byron said he'd never seen me so happy. I don't doubt his word, but I might doubt his memory. The arrival of each of our four children pretty much put me over the moon each time.

My deadline was September the 1st. After the manuscript had been read many times over by me and my very dear friend, Maureen Hurst, my editing was done and I attached the whole file to an email to my publisher. Pushing the SEND button was somewhat surreal. Byron and I celebrated with a bar of Swiss chocolate :-)

Now came the book's actual design. Lion Hudson/Monarch had already told me their plan to make it an attractive gift book, a smallish, full-color hardback with plenty of illustrations. I had originally dreamed of filling it with the artwork of some of my very talented friends, but that wasn't to be. I didn't immediately embrace everything the publisher designed. I argued about wanting a younger look and a more edgy cover. I wasn't even convinced it had a good title. "Approaching God" was a working title I had been using and I wondered if there wasn't a better name for it.

Eventually, I admitted that the publisher had more experience, more knowledge and, yes, more say in these decisions. We came to a happy balance when I began submitting photographs to be used. If there had been more time, I'd have liked to gather all the photos that were used. As it is, some are mine and some belong to my friends, while others were submitted by the designer. While the last category's photos are just fine, they aren't "me." But I'm thankful for the freedom I was given to submit the ones I did and I'm thankful that they used what I submitted. Hats off to you, Monarch, for that! I really appreciated it.

Eight months later, our son, Jesse, arrived from the States carrying my first copy of the book in his backpack. He pulled it out in the living room and I took it in my hands and gave it a long stare. There it was! All done.

Today, thousands of copies have been sold around the world and I've received many, many kind notes from readers who have been touched or helped or encouraged by it. I'm SO thankful I got to write that wee book. It truly was joy for me.

And, just for the record, I think it's time to start writing again :-)

Photo above by DorRae Stevens Photography. Honored to make her bedside table book pile :-)

Gathering the Good

Heather and I started back into home school today. It's late in January for a first day back and Heath has been worried that perhaps we're delinquent in our schedule-keeping.

The last few weeks have been (fabulously) filled with brothers (and a brother's girlfriend) for various lengths of time in over-lapping stays. For Byron, there's been plenty of work included in the schedule, but Heather didn't know how to recognize her work (that of gaining an education) in the midst of it all.

Mindful of this, we started our day by looking back over January. Marker in hand, I asked H to tell me about the things she's been up to. Turns out, it's been a pretty awesome few weeks of 8th grade. Pardon me as I elaborate...

This month, Heather's had 3 separate sessions of "outdoor ed." in 3 dramatically different environments. During these she camped, hiked, snorkeled, swam, caught, held and released ostrich chicks, spied on a couple of very shy hippos, observed fabulous birds, swung on vines, watched the always beautiful colobus monkeys and spent time in Maasai homes. She also read, baked, played piano, pursued new craft projects and prepared for and participated in a 2 day equestrian event. The event saw her complete her first ever cross country course, place in a novice dressage test and take first in her class for show jumping. More impressively, she faced down her nerves and rode competitively in front of other people. The School of January has stretched her on many levels.

If we hadn't taken the time to review this morning, would what she's gained have been lost? Would the warm, loosened muscles of her being have receded back to their pre-January selves? Probably not entirely. But I've come to believe that looking back gathers the good and helps us carry it forward. Forgetting to remember reduces the harvest. Before our pause to reflect, Heather was stressed that we might somehow be "behind." Piling the good up before us reminded her that life is filled with gifts and learning, and school has most definitely not been closed.

Learning to Fly (a poem from New Year's Eve)

Last year
we waded waist-deep
through a dark and shining sky

In the blackness
diamond stars spilled out
in every direction
the contents of some
cosmic jeweler's pockets
casually thrown

The year before us
seemed fragile
a terribly delicate thing

But that night
we walked through
wave after wave of goodness

And I thought oh
this must be how it feels to be steeped
in grace

Tonight
we plunged headlong
into the wind

Moonless and cloudy
the stars hung in clusters
on patches of empty sky
dark portals
from which the blackness shone
brilliant as the light

The year behind had
pushed me down
bending my slender shoulders

But tonight
warmth rushed wildly
over and around us

And I thought yes
this must be how it feels
to fly

-lisa, some time in the first wee hours of 2012

Off to camp at the coast :-)

Off to the coast to camp on the beach for a week with the family...

Today is Colin's 18th!!

Feeling blessed :-)

See you in the New Year.

xo

Of Christmas and How it Comes

It's hot in East Africa
press down, weighty
hot

The clouds billow up
and plod along the horizon
rumbling

(empty threats)

And I
I don't feel like
putting up
this spindly
branch called
tree

I am saddened
by recollections
of Christmas babies
and boys with
gleaming faces
taking it all in

Still
we decorate

(perhaps a tad too somberly)

But in the quiet
morning

Bare feet on
cool tile

I am greeted
by our evening's work

So simple
our selections
so home-made

And joy
breaks in

Unannounced
suddenly present

Oh, dear truth
endlessly modest and
unassuming

You stand there
in the stillness

This
this is the
mystery

Christ
dwells
in
me

Emmanuel

-lisa, 11 December, 2011