Jenny and Abigail, having formulated very beautiful lists of their own, inspire and compel. And I... resist? Never! Besides, I promised Jenny.
"The man's cub is mine, Lungri - mine to me!"
It ought never fail to blow my mind, especially looking at this little pile of treasure that I have composed of my life's storehouses, that all we need is Christ and still God gives us so much more: abundance upon abundance, wealth upon wealth, things for us to dabble in and enjoy and wrap our arms and minds around... They are a treasure-trove in Christ; taken for themselves, they become rot. So I suppose this lovely and pleasant portion, this pile of Favourite Things, shall be given with a caveat; that is, that they are mine, but they are not Me. They fill this list more by virtue of being the simple treasures of a life that ought to be and wills to be completely consumed by Christ, and only ever shall be thus because some far, far greater, unstoppable Will effects it. Some of them are so slight that I doubt many people would find them worth remembering, and some of them are so tremendous that I wonder God lets me hold them at all - but all must be held with a grasp that is ready to surrender. If you will have an "aye" or an "amen" or an "I'll drink to that" to anything in this hash of thought, let it be for that more than for a pile of pretty things. After all, these things cannot be good because they are Mine, yet they must be good because I am His. There's a paradox in that - if you like paradoxes.
such indeed are paradoxes and
battered half-blank notebooks :: swishy thrift-store skirts :: the sensation of triumph at the first sight of blood flashing down an IV catheter :: kitty kisses :: Yorkshire Gold tea, properly brewed :: scarves :: trying to squeeze one more book onto my shelves :: ink-quills and old typewriters and parchmenty papers :: my mustard-yellow teapot :: the silky-soft teal hat Mama knitted for my birthday :: the shared grins between my sisters and I when Colin Morgan (Merlin) does something that's just so Greg :: steady banter with friends that consists entirely of quotes :: the cherry-wood-rimmed maps on my wall :: running against an Oklahoma gale :: singing the Psalms :: the steady, syncopated thub-thub of a strong pulse :: a heavy book on my knees :: polka-dots and sailor stripes :: used book-stores :: Sundays :: midnight conversations that sharpen :: people I have never met nor discoursed with but know: Gabriel Syme, Audrey Assad, Elwin Ransom, Rhodri, Andrew Peterson... :: red hair (literal and that which is only found in the soul-matter) :: the tears that twinkle in Papa's eyes when something beautiful jumps at him from Scripture :: lilacs mixed with letters on Mutti's porch in June :: rich, damp earth between my fingers and toes :: the centennial Illinois farmhouse where I learned to do most things except ride a bike :: irony :: climbing Kansas hills :: finding beauty in brokenness :: watching Dani's fingers weaving melodies on the piano :: heavenly feasts with the people of God :: windows in the world :: those indomitable twins separated by five years and :: faith,
a little burning ember in my weary soul.
For the true apprehension of beauty, like faith itself, is an exercise in laying claim to what is already ours. There is a low door in the garden wall, and it opens on an inheritance: this is my Father’s world, and He has given it to me... In short, if we find ourselves wandering through this beautiful world of ours with ink-stained fingers and dreamy eyes and a slightly lopsided ivy crown, gazing about like we own the place, it’s because we do.
-Lanier Iverson, "On Possessing Beauty"
A lovely list! Scarves and Kitty Kisses are awesome, indeed! ^.^ As well as many other things you listed, of course.
I've never heard of Yorkshire Gold tea before, though...is that a brand or a type of tea?
The best of these list-things yet, Anna. I loved the quote at the end...possessing beauty. Yes. God is such a generous Lord, is He not?
And I promised that I would reply, and here I am doing so, but to be honest I'm not sure what to say. I never can find the right words just when I desperately need them. I suppose Justin and I are very like each other that way. (And there! - as you said, how we become so close to people who are not, or who have not met us at all!)
I suppose the most beautiful thing in all of this is the woven pattern is makes with me, and Abigail, and others I don't know - how, because our hearts are knit together, the things which are ours are knit to one another into some kind of fantastic tapestry of living and owning beauty. God does not just save us, he makes us live, and though many of these are but shadow things, I think many of these are the shadows cast by Real Things on the dawn's horizon.
So yes, I'll drink to that, to the things that cannot be and that are.
Amen. Thank you oh so much for that introduction, Anna; it sums up everything I wanted to say in my post, but for which I couldn't find the words. So thank you. ^.^