Hiking in Pearls

Tag: writing

  • Three Word Story Challenge – Part 4

    Three Word Story Challenge – Part 4

    Thankful – Stillness – Finished

    Blooms on the mimosa tree filled the air with a soft, sweet fragrance. The wispy, white, and pink puffs were radiant against the green fern shaped leaves. Like opening a gift, the scent brought my grandmother to mind and the smell of the delicate powder she once wore.

    I sat under the tree and drank the memory in while the sun lowered in the sky. The heat of the day was forced to concede. Giving way to the cool night air that was sent to refresh man and beast.

    Dusk lured the fireflies out for their evening dance. A sprinkling of fluorescent green dots peppered the air just above the lawn. They invited me to rest in the stillness that had begun to settle over the day.

    I accepted the offer and lifted a steaming cup of coffee to my lips. The warmth of the liquid left an easy trail to follow. Crashing over my tongue it gathered at the back of my mouth. Next, it took a slow and easy descent down my throat and towards my stomach.

    Muscles in my chest tightened as my lungs filled with air. This is why I drink coffee.

    To remember.

    For comfort that comes from relationship. Bonds that were strengthened over conversations shared while enjoying the juice of the java bean.

    The voices of my parents’ echo through my thoughts as an old reel begins to play. I can hear their laughter. The dogs barking as one of my siblings comes through the door. This was home.

    Coffee is home.

    I swirl the last sip in the mug before drinking it down.

    Staring at the bottom of the cup I wasn’t ready for it to be finished.

    I wasn’t ready to let them go.

    Averting my eyes to the sky the stars speak of the promises of God. I am thankful that I belong to a much bigger family now.

    I only have yet to meet them all.

  • The Pace of a Child

    The Pace of a Child

    If you opened my refrigerator right now, you wouldn’t notice the litter of condiments and leftovers. Your eyes would settle on the pencil.

    Ground to the last inch of its life. It was left by one of my beautiful children…three weeks ago.

    I didn’t move it, because I wanted to remember…

    I stroll to that precious moment in my mind. There I can hear the chorus of laughter from the other room. The picture is clear as I close my eyes. I see an opened package of Cheeze-its spilling out on top of a container of blueberries. A pencil worn far too short to be of any use laid in front of the scene.

    Mementos of fleeting youth.

    Soon the children will be grown.

    Responsibility will lasso their minds and pull them into a place of order.

    I left the pencil to keep what I fear will be lost. For I am all too aware, that this moment will soon be gone.

    There was a time I would clean around their perfect, grubby, little handprints on the window. Knowing one day it would be the last time to wipe them up. Their hands would never be this size again.

    The handprints have since faded…

    Stickers can still be found on the dryer door and legs of the dining chairs. They remind me of innocence and imagination.

    In my flowerbed you will find a pile of broken trinkets. Big hearts displayed through small hands that carried each piece. Their souls spilling over with joy from the “treasures” they had found.

    Treasure, they wanted to share with me.

    I am reminded of Genesis 33. It is here we meet Jacob returning home from his time as a fugitive and working with Laban. His brother Esau came out to meet him and offered to join him for the remainder of the journey home.

    Jacob declines. Telling him that the children are tender and the flocks have young. He doesn’t want to drive them too hard.

    Jacob, rather than pushing his children to hurry up, slowed down with them. He changed his pace to theirs.

    He chose to protect a sacred time. Life shared as parent and child.

    I am finding as I grow into life, I have forgotten. All the things that truly matter.

    My children help me to recall. All the wonderful things I overlook.

    A beautiful gift of remembrance awaits each of us. Parent or not, if we are willing to slow to their stride.

    A life of priceless wonder is at hand.

    Friend, I want to encourage you today to slow to the pace of a child.

    Remember to Tarry…even Stop.

    To Ponder the Majesty of the World.

    To Laugh.

    To Play.

    To Explore.

    To Discover.

    To Dream.

    To Live.

    Friend, there is much yet to enjoy.

    In grace and peace,

    Sharon Rose

  • The Power to Overcome: Lessons from a Blind Artist

    I have a painting that hangs as the focal point of my dining room. The title “Max and Theo,” is a picture of a happy elephant with a parrot resting on his truck. With vibrant colors, the painting speaks of the joy of unlikely friendship.

    Hidden below the symphony of colors is a greater testament. You can hear the shouts of triumph through the artist’s signature. Two o’s, each with a x marked over them. The painter, John Bramblitt is completely blind.

    Yet he paints. Beautifully.

    I bought this piece to inspire my son. Too often the weight of schoolwork places a burden of “I can’t” upon his shoulders.

    I hung it on the wall as soon as it arrived.

    As our school day circled to math, I heard the infamous words, “I can’t,” spill from his mouth.

    I pointed to the new painting on the wall. “If a blind man can paint like that, then there is nothing that you can’t do.”

    He gave a heavy sigh and opened his book. It wasn’t long before I heard, “Mom, I think I can do this…I can do this.

    Mom! I can do this!“

    As he finished his work he pushed the book towards me.

    He had done all of the problems correctly.

    “Good job, buddy. You did it!” I said as I ruffled his hair.

    With a quick flip of his wrist his pencil was in the air. Before it hit the ground, he was up; running a victory lap through the house and shouting, “Woo Hoo! I did it!”

    As he began to regained composer, he sat down and shook his head in disbelief. There was a smile that would outshine the moon across his face, “Mom, I actually did it.”

    “I knew you would.” I told him.

    My son was inspired to face his challenge, because one man chose to overcome his.

    If I’m honest, it is easy to quit when things get hard. When the fear of failure looms like a daunting storm inevitable to escape.

    I have learned it takes far more strength to be willing to try and fail then to never begin.

    In his interview with 3playmedia.com, Faces Behind the Screen John offers this advice, “My piece of advice would be to fail. Fail a lot, and don’t be afraid of failing. If you’re not failing in your life, you may not be trying enough new things. Give yourself the freedom and the license to fail.”

    Friend, I challenge you today to risk failing and don’t stop.

    The measure of a man is in how many times he stands up. Not in how many times he has fallen down.

    Failure is the foundation for greatness.

    F – first

    A –attempt

    I – in

    L –learning

    You can do this.

    You were created to do hard things.

    As I close today, I want to encourage you to take some time and check out the work of this American painter. His website is http://bramblitt.com. Also consider grabbing a copy of his memoir, Shouting in the Dark: My Journey Back to The Light, co-written with Lindsey Tate.

    Now it is your turn. Choose to do the hard thing.

    Go – be inspired!

    Go – take a chance!

    and then

    Go – inspire!

    *Image of the painting was used with permission by the artist.

  • Overcoming Evil with Good: A Beach Adventure

    Overcoming Evil with Good: A Beach Adventure

    Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12:21 KJV

    I recently had the opportunity to go to the beach with my children and a Sister in Christ. The first evening that we were there the children and I were each stung by a jellyfish! They were rather small in size and did not deter us from enjoying that water.

    The next morning like most beach goers we were up early to walk the shore and look for shells. What the shore lacked in shells we found in jellyfish that had been left behind from the tide!

    These boys found the mission of their vacation. To save the jellyfish!

    Our first day found us completely unprepared for “Operation Jellyfish Rescue.” Not to be outdone, my oldest put his ingenuity to work, and he used his sandal to manipulate them back into the ocean. Each time after he was sure to bring his shovel. He had a heart to help the helpless jellyfish laid out on the beach.

    I saw the heart of Jesus pouring out from their innermost being.

    They worked together to find and recover all that had been left behind. To show kindness to that which had caused them pain.

    I couldn’t help but think of the scripture above, to offer good for evil. It would have been easy to justify leaving them on the shore. After all they had stung us a few times, and likely we would be stung again. It is their nature to sting. Yet, they returned them to the only place they can live. The place they can cause pain. The place where we would swim.

    Children hold a rare and pure beauty.

    Without thought, mine looked to restore life to the jellyfish. The very thing that had hurt them.

    In the last part of Isaiah 11:6, it states that, “a little child shall lead them.”

    My prayer is that we will slow to the pace of a child and allow them to lead us.

    Friend, there is much to learn.