Scrollwork

So, Atlanta is dear to my heart. It's not just the place I've passed the last ten years, its my home. One of the things I love about Atlanta is that, although its a big city, it still has trees. Anyone whose spent a length of time in a major metro area understands what I'm talking about. We may not see stars, but we see green!
And today as I sit, surrounded by the cheerful red walls of Borders' cafe, and gaze out the window (because I ought to be writing a report for work), the first thing I noticed was the high rise condos that loom black and stalwart behind the EFIS and glass of the mall. (Note: EFIS is fake stucco. It's flammable. My job makes me think like this.)
Then my gaze wanders to the right and snags upon the delicate boughs of trees not yet dressed for the sunshine. I love the image of their naked, delicate limbs fanned like lace across the sky. It makes me get all contemplative, about how something with such a fragile beauty is actually mighty and old, how the tender parts are kept high and safe, and how even when coated in an array of greenery, lovely in its own right, the lacework is still underneath, hidden from the hot summer sun until the winter light shines again. It makes me wish I could hold it in my palm, or make my home just underneath, so each time I looked up, I'd get to see the stark contrast of fine black against a wash of silver-blue.
Thank you God for the little pretties in the world, for the way trees are trees whether I notice them or not, and for the imprint of something deeper than the visible that they leave on my memory.

It's beginning to look a lot like....Spring!

Today I am grateful for shadows! Or at least I think so, I can never remember if it's shadows mean Spring or no shadows mean Spring....I'm grateful for groundhogs at any rate because although I don't have much confidence in General Beauregard Lee's ability to predict the arrival of spring (he's the Punxatawny Phil of the South for those who live above the Mason-Dixon), he did say that Spring is on its way. Hurray!
And if today is any indication, whichever weatherman is responsible for Groundhog Lee's opinion is right. The sun is out, and I have shed my coat for at least the next few hours. It is a day custom-made for ukuleles and ice cream sandwiches and maybe even an open-toed shoe.
Sigh. I suppose on some level I'm grateful for the winter days, short enough to be called stubby and cold enough to be labeled harsh, because without them, this day may not stand out as lovely. However, that level is very deep and rarely accessed, and I'm happy to leave it un-plumbed at this time. No, instead I'll revel in this Psalm 23 kind of day. The Lord is my shepherd; I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.
Amen.

Knitted comfort

I have this kelly green sweater-hoodie. It zips up the front and pockets like a sweatshirt over the tummy. It's getting a good crop of fuzzballs and there is currently a crumb on the sleeve.
No, it's not a fashion statement...at least not one I would intentionally make. But, on this windy Friday morning it is my favorite sweater because it is so soft. It feels amazing, stretching lightly over my arms as I work. Its warm but not heavy and, in the way only a quality piece of clothing can do, its not only comfortable, but it exudes comfort.
Isn't it funny how something tactile can affect the untouchable parts of us? The soft brush of ....(looking at my tag)...acryllic/polyester/wool/spandex blend on skin can stir a sigh of contentment that goes beyond a hoodie and man made materials. But it does.
If green sweaters could speak, this sweet, ugly thing would say, "Relax. It's Friday. You'll get done what you need to and all will be well." And so it will.
Thank you, God, for little comforts and little reminders that, indeed, all will be well.

As I lay me down to sleep

I'm posting late again because I had to be at work early. I stayed up late preparing as well. For two days I've been teaching my colleagues a new information system at work. It's a good system and I like teaching, but it was pretty taxing, honestly. I had to be on, had to be ready to answer any questions, had to be nice even when people got tired of sitting all day and turned snippy (or at least I had to try to be nice....) I think it went well and felt good about the whole thing when we wrapped up at noon today. Then, after a few more hours of work, I came home, curled up with a book, and read until my eyes quit focusing and I drifted off into the warm arms of sleep.
Ahhhh. There is nothing quite like waking up completely limp, without an alarm blaring or work calling. The slow awareness of self and surrounding alighting on your consciousness. A long, lazy stretch of totally relaxed muscles.
Isn't sleep amazing? I mean, imagine if God had made us not to need it, to be functional and alert without stop for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. If night time was just second shift.
Ugh. I think even if I didn't need to, I would want to sleep. It is a chance to be still in a hectic world, to be vulnerable and safe, to let your mind run free in a dreamscape. There are a lot of studies now reflecting the importance of getting enough sleep. I say, good. But I didn't need convincing in the first place.
Psalm 121 verse 3 says He will not let your foot slip- he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed he who watches over you will neither slumber nor sleep. Thank you God for watching over me so I can rest, for being strong and vigilant always, so that even if I could, I don't have to. Thank you for an experiential image of the renewing and refreshment you offer me each day (and sometimes again in the afternoon). I will rest in you.

Girl's best friend

I. Love. Sparkles. This is one of those areas where I fall neatly within the brackets of a stereotype. Accessories, I think, are the frosting on top of an outfit and in my opinion, the more sparkly, the better. It is amazing to me that something as simple as a rock, when cut and polished, becomes a ruby, a diamond, an emerald. And since I'm poor, a cubic zirconia (or glass for that matter.) Wearing something pretty makes me feel pretty, and for that I am grateful. I have some really pretty green glass earrings that look like emeralds and they catch the light and shimmer.
I am tired and its getting late so I won't go into the symbolism of finding beauty in the hard places and the need to be cut and polished to shine.
Today, I'm just grateful for sparkles that require no effort on my part to add shine and interest, for sparks of color that ignite faithfully every time the light hits them and make me lovelier.

Roy G. Biv

What is your favorite color?
Simple question, but I always feel like a dolt when I try to answer. Truth is, most of the time I don't have a favorite. It's hard for me to imagine one color I would love to the exclusion of the others. It is the variety that makes each beautiful. Today, for instance, it is pretty gray outside. The bright pink lid of my coffee mug smiles up at me from my desk, and when no one is looking, I smile back.
Pink. Great color. Cheerful and warm, hence the proverbial rose colored glasses. It brings to mind spring and life and vibrant energy (as I type this it occurs to me that this particular association may have something to do with the fact that it is the lid to my coffee mug, but still.)
Now, if my desk were pink, I would probably vomit marshmallows. Like a said, great color, but better in small doses.
I love the bright blue of a summer sky and I love the variegated green of the smokey mountains when they're all leafed out. It's almost impossible to be gloomy in the presence of a bright lemony yellow. Here again, though, I pause. If the grass were bright lemony yellow, I bet Tylenol Headache sales would skyrocket.
Nope, overall, I can't pick a favorite. It is the concert of rich hues, bright and subtle, that weave a beautiful picture on this earth. Thank you God for inventing color, even beige, because amidst the variety are spots of glory that would be lost on me if they were all I saw.

Girls' lunch!

I had lunch yesterday with a relatively new friend. She is sweet as can be. It's funny how with friendships there's almost always that 'first date' period where you try to present your best self. It's natural and I think we all do it to some extent whether we know it or not. While its normal and can help ease things when you meet someone, it can paralyze a relationship. There's only so much surface area to a person and once you've covered it....awkward silence. Tap your nails. Suddenly remember a vital appointment.
It's scary for us to go one step deeper for several reasons, at least. One is, what if they don't like me? What if the ugly part of me isn't worth the pretty part? Another reason is, what if they don't want that? Some people are so surrounded by surface-friends, that it might take too much effort to dig a little. I bet all of us have done that thing where you say something honest, let your roots show, and look up to find yourself talking to a dust trail and a dot on the horizon.
So this was my blessing yesterday. Lunch with my friend Charlotte was fun and...(drumroll)...real! She is one of the good hearts that makes you feel comfortable, like she likes what she sees in you just because. And even if your ugly shows a little, she'll like you just the same. It's so freeing to feel like just being is enough.
I think this is a tiny taste of how God sees us. I am just Kimberly. Just...enough. On bad days, on good days, in the limelight or backstage. Thank you God that you love who I am and not what I do. Your love sets me free.