Happy Birthday, With Love!

***Israel Balas***

('Chosen Prince of God')

*8 years ago today, my life was forever enhanced.  I felt the heart of God so strongly.  I heard His whispers and nudgings of his intentions for Israel, and also for myself.  I stepped into pregnancy a mere child, and walked away a woman, a mother.  Through his innocent and unconditional sweet baby love, I came to feel the heart of God Himself.  So Israel...although it is your birthday...it is also mine...for I came alive when I held you for the first time.*

You are so loved!!!

7 lbs  3 ozs  19 1/2 inches

born at 12:12 pm

he hadn't even had his first bath yet

one of the many moments spent in awe and familiarizing myself with the little gymnist I had felt for so long

his very first super loud giggle (he was laughing at his cousin Bella playing peek-a-boo with him)

my beautiful 6 month old

bbbbrrrrruuuummmmmm

a peaceful protest

his stick phase

this lasted several months

he ALWAYS had a stick in hand

(oh how he loved fall..just like mommy)

...and he still loves to create

with his best buddy Bella

he was my 'assistant' with teaching art camp at Camp Buckeye

all the teens loved him

just chillin'

he still delights in kitty lovins'

kid dreams

Keep Dreaming

In the magical land of make-believe this is how my day would be:

        I would awake with a kiss from my prince.  Singing birds would drape a blanket of daises around my shoulders.  I would float around the house on a cloud, only to discover that some sweet little hobbits cleaned for me.  The work was done so well that everything sparkled like diamonds in the sun. 
          Next, I would go to my wardrobe to choose from the many clean gowns that were just hanging there, so freshly adorned.  I would snap my fingers and be dressed in this beautiful gown.  It wouldn't be lumpy or misshapen in any way, and it would smell of the breeze and fresh lilacs.  I would enjoy the delicious meal that magically made its way into my oven, then go back to bed for a few hours while the fairy's of the forest entertained my two cute little elves.
Then upon awaking again, I could retreat to my enchanted tree house where I would write in scrolls and drink magical hot chocolate and view the kingdom from a different perspective. 

Inspiration, Magic, and Whimsy!

The only time machine guns are funny :)

 

The dreamiest space ever.

The magnificence of fall time

This time of year gets me on a kick for hats hats...

and more hats!

Finally, spectacular ink art which was only made better by my love of jellyfish. 

(I want this framed and on my wall!)

Intentions

How enviable the moon, for it knows when to rise and when to fall.

The flowers exist as only flowers can;
  they bloom and fade and begin again as seed nestled in the warmth of the soil.

The water knows how to satisfy.

The trees produce in season;
  they shade and grow and keep the lulls of the wind.

Lions hunt, turtles hide, and monkeys climb.

And here I am...the only creation who can exist outside of necessity and function;
to hold the experience of imagination,
yet never knowing when to quit pretending.

For I am the only creation who can think itself to be something that I am not.
How I wish I could exist in this coat of skin,
only to do the things humans were meant to do.

Intelligible Folly

Intelligence says that I must understand before I can believe.
But what do I know of the suns design?
Do I not still feel its warmth and tan from its exposure?
God is.
Bigger than the galaxy, the universe.
Bigger than I can hold.
Yet he's held inside of me.
How...can I still be...so dim?
My hearts says.......I want.
A brighter light.
Desirable fruit.
Invitation.
A belief that trumps intelligence.

As lights brighten, the shadows darken.
A contrast which makes lines easily distinguishable.
My will desires flavor-
     to salt with grace,
     to season with love,
     to influence an insatiable thirst,
and to introduce the very man who can quench it.
To take ransom over reason-
     the intelligible folly.

Rainy Day Sunshine

By most people, rain is despised.

For me though, it presents opportunity:

to be refreshed

to snuggle under handmade blankets with my boys

to make our living room into a giant tent.

Rain encourages shadow puppets on walls

empty mugs

lit candles and enchanting stories of faraway lands.

Every bear hug, a reminder of what is most important.

Busyness slows...and you listen.

To hearts beating close, to rain making music on the windows,

and to the laughter of two precious, giggly boys.

We, the Poem.

Provocative expressions we are.

Displays of magnificence.

The only creation aware of itself;

conscious to thought,

intentional to life.

We are God's 'workmanship.'

The creation of his own heart and hands.

We carry His breath, walk in His image, and house His Spirit.

Vitally. United.

'Workmanship' was birthed from the Hebrew 'poiema.'

An end product. 

A creation.

Or as English translates...'poem.'

Our lives, fluent in grace,

abundant in freedom

and dancing with whimsy and prose.

We are all enchanting stanzas...

to be slowly read and enjoyed by one another.

Cautiously deciphering the sanctity between the lines.

Let our actions match the insight and magic of the True Poet's intentions.

Be beauty...and leave the readers of your lives in awe!


[Ephesians 2:10 - For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.]