His gift of faith
Lord willing, I will be 63 years old soon. Two older family members were called Home this year. I share my stories, that God has given to me. Everyone has a story. I realized I had forgotten many hard things; the edges around some losses are softer now.
Beauty and love though remain. Grow stronger. Unconditional love.
C old and time to
O pen books, new and old
L oved and saved for a
D ecember day
With December 1, I am beginning to read a new devotional by Sarah Young: Jesus Always: Embracing Joy in His Presence (2016, Thomas Nelson). I bought my copy at a Target store, and this morning found the page for her book at Thomas Nelson. Sarah Young writes from a perspective of chronic health problems, and time in prayer and Bible study. I like the design of her small books.
Mind the Gap – I love to learn. It is indeed interesting to reflect upon various creative projects. Some days, creating posts, the work is easy. Other days, a post that takes a minute to view may take me some time to create. One day, I might take a photo and it shows what I see. Other days, I try many times. Or I stop for the day, and then the next day or two, things seem easier. I am retired now.
Growing older, I have a different perspective on time. As a teacher, I had to be “on time” and meet many deadlines. With other projects, there can be another sense of time. A poem may take some time, and still seem new and bless others years later.
Each project has its own journey. Creativity is an important part of health for me. I have also learned if I can no longer do one thing, to try something else. My definition of creativity includes many activities. The caregiving years with my mother and family were very creative. Later on, my poetry reflected all I could not write at the time.
in the night
Poem and letters: Ellen Grace Olinger
There is a lot of rest around the work now.
This photo of our paperwhites is one of my favorites. I tried different ideas, and then cropped the photo to show the flowers most of all.
After my father died, his brother encouraged my mother to volunteer at a nursing home. Mom was in her mid-60s then. She did not drive and my Uncle Carl took her there every Friday for many years. This nursing home took care of her in her last illness. Her service was honored and she knew where she was.
Enola M. Borgh (1917 – 2004), my mother, also had a distinguished career as a professor and author in English literature and composition. She modeled for me that service is service. She spoke at conferences, and she folded towels. She also taught English as a second language at a church, after she retired. I still miss her, though the grief is more gentle now, and we shall meet again. Meanwhile I still hope to read her published work. I pray the Psalms and try to keep growing in new times, with lots of rest as well.