Sunset at home

Reflection in my bedroom window

Reflection, with crescent moon

Outside the front door

What God has made clean...

Last night, Curtis led our Friday night Rhythm gathering (weekly dinner/worship/prayer together). I got to lend a hand in both the planning and the leading of an awesome evening exploring how God can move and work in unexpected places, based on the story of Cornelius' conversion in Acts 10. We included the kids in a spontaneous dramatic reading of the story, then explored dance, art, and poetry as places we might find God. The evening concluded with everyone collaborating to write a responsive sort of poem/prayer. Chris posted about it here on our community blog, so I'll link instead of re-posting the text. Go check it out... it was an awesome collaborative effort responding to God about our evening!

One of the things I'm most passionate about is finding glimpses of God in the arts, so last night's worship and subsequent conversations were awesome. Coming off a week where I got to lead a book discussion on Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible (finally incorporating some fiction into our NC book discussions!), and am looking ahead to more movie and book discussions with my "Art of Soul" group, I'm pretty fired up right now about the intersection of my love for the arts with ministry and worship. Good stuff.

Art is the lie that makes us realize the truth.
—Pablo Picasso

Grey day in Sosh

Maxfield Parrish sky, Chesterton quotes

A glorious sunset, as seen from the Checkers (local grocery store) parking lot on Thursday evening.

Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them.
--G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

Here dies another day
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world round me;
And with tomorrow begins another.
Why am I allowed two?
--G.K. Chesterton

The Road Home

Sunset pictures on the way back from the beach trip