Thursday, April 12, 2012

February Joy Dare

I am moving these past Joy Dares from my personal files to this blog.
 February includes #94 - #180.

94 - 96:: A gift found at 11:30: An early lunch ;   2:30: Time to write and read ; 6:30: A lovely dinner with hubby as we are both home tonight.

97-99:: Gifts overheard: Women, speaking in English accent, from London, Loud rant on cell phone in airline waiting area, lots of people chatting quietly.

100-102:: Gifts found in writing: Ability to express myself, ink on paper in my journal, discovering good words on bad days.

103-105:: Gifts found when bent down: lint and dust under the cupboard, a pretty hair pin I'd lost, a lady bug in the porch floorboards, alive!

106-108:: A Gift . . . stitched: Chalice Vail    Hammered: Christ's body on the Cross   Woven:  Three generations at dad's 97th birthday celebration.





109-111:: Gifts found outside: Sunny and warm space in Florida, beach sand filled with shells, lungs filled with salty, humid air.

112-114:: Gifts RED: Red shade on an old lamp; paper hearts on the mantel; Jesus' blood shed for me.

115-117:: A gift broken: Porcelain candle stick; fixed: Hummel figures;  Thrifted: Most of our furniture.

118-120:: Unexpected graces: My journey south to visit dad, a visit with a long lost friend, renewal of the soul as I linger by the sea.

121-123:: Times of laughter today: sharing memories with friends, dad's joy over our adventure together, my gafaws so loud and unbecoming but fun.
124-126:: Gifts found in working: Satisfaction, fulfilling my purpose, task completion.
127-129:: Hard eucharisteos:: giving thanks to God for a time of waiting, living in the cold north when I'd do better in the South, claiming God's fullness in me when I feel empty.

130-132:: Gifts found behind a door: years of grimy hand prints, a cute iron door stop, an old radio system that dad still chooses to keep.
133-135:: Feeling God's Love: when reading scripture, praying, chatting with dad as we share memories.
136-138:: Gifts . . . losing something: weight after giving up desserts;  finding something: renewed JOY;  making something: good days out of sad times.

139-141:: Gifts in shadows: the past, potential future, my shadow in the bright sun . . . nice and thin if I stand just right.

142-144:: Gifts found in giving/serving: serving dad as best I could for a couple weeks, helping a fellow passenger find her seat, full attention to my husband who remained up north while I went south.
145-147:: Gifts on paper: A love note to my husband, my husbands 'to-do' lists for both of us, words of wonder and wisdom in my journal.

148-150:: Plan B gifts: grabbing a protein drink as we run late for church, adding an extra layer of clothing at the last minute, we opt to have a quiet lunch at home instead of joining our group for lunch.
151-153:: A gift . . . at breakfast: oatmeal with blueberries; lunch: light fare  dinner: late but elegant meal with candles.

154-156:: White gifts: Puffy clouds, fresh sheets on the bed, my favorite dishes with cracks and chips.
157-159:: Gifts that changed today: Ashes on my forehead changed my insight, litany of penitence changed my soul, leading the women's bible study fluttered my heart.

160-162:: Gifts of . . .  tin: hand made cookie cutter; glass: water goblets; wood: old cookie press.
163-165:: Gifts before 11 am: sunrise,  a hot cup of tea, exercising.
166-168:: Gifts  . . . nearly worn out: my patched up denim jumper;  new: slacks that fit me;  made do: our old furniture which I love.

169-171:: Gifts as reflections: God's creativity in the sunset, my rosy cheeked face in the mirror, my journal entries as they reflect my soul.
172-174:: Gifts of beauty in the ugly: a victorian lamp from dad's family, paint-stripped rocking chairs that wait to be refinished, Autumn Joy sedum left from winter.

175-177:: Gifts from the past that help my future: personal salvation in Christ Jesus; past mistakes; my aunt's encouragement years ago.
178-180:: Gifts . . . Dull: kitchen knives;  shimmering: an old mirror; cleaned: a copper heart mold.


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