Friday Five: This and That

"It is a serious thing just to be alive on

this fresh morning in the broken world."

MARY OLIVER

 

Here we are... it's November 1st. The time of year for those of us in northerly climes when we start to long for cozy nights at home, snuggling into sweaters and fuzzy socks, wrapping fingers around warm beverages, partaking of hearty stews and thick, nourishing soups. Some of us, maybe many of us, start thinking about the holidays ahead. We begin gathering stacks of books that fit the mood of cooler weather and darkening days. We take time to notice the little things that make our souls flourish in these hopefully quieter, duller days of the year.

As I've gathered bits and pieces that are meaningful for me and stitched them loosely into today's post, you have been on my mind. I hope something here will encourage, stimulate or cause you to pause and take a breath for this season's challenges, whatever they may be.

I wish you days that are alive with beauty and grace. Peace of mind and heart, too.

 

One. Outside my window

It's grey and gloomy. Roof-tops are white with frost this morning. There was fog earlier. It's been a lovely autumn, but the days are definitely getting more 'wintry' in feeling. The garden has that forlorn, worn look. Although I cannot believe that, even with frost at night, the white alyssum annuals are still practically perfect. I assumed they'd succumb along with the marigolds and geraniums, but they are bold and beautiful in their pristine, white clumps. The sunflower that grew this summer—I mentioned it last week—has been stripped of all its black seeds, for the chickadees have taken advantage of the great feast before them, snapping up seeds and flitting off to eat them. I love chickadees. 

Two. Beauty to press on

"If you have been afraid that your love of beautiful flowers and the

flickering flame of the candle is somehow less spiritual than living in

starkness and ugliness, remember that He who created you to be creative

gave you the things with which to make beauty and the sensitivity

to appreciate and respond to His creation."

EDITH SCHAEFFER

Three. Celebrating L.M. Montgomery

This November marks Lucy Maud Montgomery's 150th birthday. After all these decades, I kind of hope she knows that there are still millions of us on this earth who love her writing and cherish the work she did over her lifetime. If you've followed me for anything length of time, you know this beloved Canadian writer of the Anne and Emily books is a clear favourite of mine. Browsing my archives, I realized I've written numerous posts over the years about my relationship with her—I consider her my mentor from afar. And so during November, I'm taking the liberty of republishing some of them to mark my own celebration of L.M. Montgomery. I'll start off with this excerpt I wrote in 2020 as a guest blogger for InScribe.

There are so many things I could share here about what I have learned from L.M. Montgomery. Looking back, she was a shining star—a mentor from afar—for most of my life. She taught me to appreciate the joy and beauty of the world around me, regardless of happy or unhappy circumstances. I shall always remember sitting with pen and paper in hand, trying to capture something of the twilight beauty of a long-ago summer evening. I had hoped to emulate Ms. Montgomery, for by then I was captivated with her ability to bring something of the beautiful to everything she wrote.

We live in an upside-down world where beauty and goodness are often forgotten, hidden behind misery and meanness, tragedy and trauma. Some people say, well that's life, that's the reality. Of course, we know sadness, cruelty, and ugliness are real, but I have so often pondered why these should carry more weight than the reality of love and beauty and kindness. Mr. Carpenter, Emily's schoolteacher in one of the Emily novels, entreated the aspiring authoress not to heed her critics but to press forward and continue to write from that place of beauty she saw in her own mind. He told Emily, "Don't be led away by those howls of realism. Remember—pine woods are just as real as pigsties and a darn sight pleasanter to be in."

The essence of those words became a touchstone for me. No matter what was going on in the world around me, Mr. Carpenter's wise words, through the pen of L.M. Montgomery, fixed my focus on how I wanted to write. You see, they matched those lines I love in Philippians (in the New Testament): whatever is lovely and of good report, think (write) on these things.

And that's been my aim ever since.

From the article "In the Shadow of the Bookshelf" published September 12, 2020. 

 

Four. A word to the wise

Take no thought for tomorrow: for tomorrow shall take care of itself.

Each day has enough trouble of its own.

GOSPEL OF MATTHEW

Grace and mercy are freshly minted every morning for us—

let's plan not to waste today's energy on yesterday's regrets or

tomorrow's frets. As they say, sufficient for the day.

Five. A thrill of hope

It’s early evening and you’re deep into the book you’re reading.

You hear a rustling in the kitchen and hope there’s a treat forthcoming…

a mug of hot chocolate, maybe a slice of toast, or something warm from the oven.

❦

And now I wish you glimpses

of heaven in unexpected places,

Brenda

Photo credits:

(Top) Image by digitalmeta555 from Pixabay

(Leaves) Image by _Alicja from Pixabay

(Candles) Image by Ukanga from Pixabay

(L.M. Montgomery) Unknown

(Succulent) Image by dendoktoor from Pixabay

(coffee) Image from Pixabay 

Autumn Blogging Schedule:

I post on Fridays