I am sitting in a nice cool basement–of a nice, cool library, about 15 minutes from where my husband and I live. I am having a blast.
This place is a candy store for nerds–like me!
(So are lots of libraries.)
But, I especially like this one. It is at the school where I was accepted to get an MA in Journalism. The letter came (before ordinary e-mail existed) back in Spring of 1981 when I was living and working in Dallas, Texas, as a mid-twentysomething.
I moved by the first weekend of October and the degree didn’t get completed until August of 1985, but by then I was a Mrs. and by 1992 I was a suburban mom of 2 sons–and fairly close to 40 years old!!
Now they are grown men and I am past 60 and even though working (for money) could still theoretically be possible, I am choosing to work on speculation instead. (This is a lot of what artists end up doing, I’ve gathered. Occasionally, we sell some art. That’s gratifying. But there are a lot of things besides earning per se that need to be done.) Anyway, besides the normal homemaker-stuff, I have managed to accumulate a whole lot more education along with motherhood. Now I am getting antsy to put that stuff to work in better ways–not that I haven’t already, $ or not.
So, I’m back at this dear old library, and truly enjoying it. There are several thinking-writing projects I could work on but the ones that intrigue me most are about emotions, attachment, God and relational skills. Just for starters.
Pray. This is war.
I was recently challenged by a Christian leader/author/pastor to live “on the edge.” By this I believe he meant to be “all in” with God, to give Him my whole heart, to allow what moves His heart to move mine.
I like what he meant.
I want that.
Guess I just don’t want to fall off any edges!
Our church recently did a sermon series on human sexuality–based on general and biblical revelation (churchrez.org). We believe the cross and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ are what give great power and hope for a “fully-alive” sexuality in a deeply-broken world.
Biblically, this includes accepting ourselves as God created us, male and female, as woman, as man, both together reflecting His image.
For me, this means living and giving out of my marriage, even when I’m “out and about” involved in various activities not directly related to my home or family. My “fully-alive” challenge is to always look to Christ for my true identity, even as I live that out in marriage.
This is a paradox.
Mystery often seems to carry creative tension.
Like we let go of our lives to find them. Like crucifixion births resurrected life. Like being made into a holy, spotless Bride of Christ even though we came to Him as sinners.
Singles too who embrace their gender gifts can richly offer love and ministry in each local body of believers. I need you as a man, you as a woman, as my brothers and sisters. We need all to own their true selves in Christ–drawing on His capacity where we each are limited.
Yes, we come fallen and broken and bruised by our sins and the sins done against us. We are tempted to reject God’s design. This woundedness we carry needs Jesus’ touch and He does meet us when we come, as we are, to His cross. We can be washed clean. We can heal. We can love in whole, holy ways.
Literally Thousands of Titles in my Lending Libraries–each “Library” is a Subject Category: https://lyeasley.libib.com (This syncs with Amazon database so may show a later edition than I actually have to share.)
My husband and I are trying to prune our collection, located in Baker Hill subdivision (near Glen Ellyn Trader Joe’s). Some titles we’d actually give away to a good home! If loaner, you can borrow for a month. Feel free to e-mail questions to Lois: email@example.com. If you go to Rez, we can possibly connect there.
Yesterday morning at a local park, I was enjoying sun and our midwestern profusion of blossoms and greens.
I found a quiet spot where I could sit quietly by some wetlands.
A large, light grey, very long-necked bird was on the far side of the water.
I was struck by its sheer size. After a while it took flight and seemed even larger, with that little crimp in its neck and broad wingspan.
After it left, the glassy, calm water remained, as if untouched.
But I was not.