The Dregs: Finding Sense in Endings

It is amazing to me that I don't just lose my mind during the last few days of packing, especially when 80 student essays are involved, but for some reason I am calm.  I guess that is a good sign, right?  There is still a ton to do, but some of it simply has to wait since eating isn't really optional.  The kitchen is almost done; the bedrooms are done.  I just have scattered odds and ends, and I hate this part because nothing makes sense going into boxes together.  Ah well.  We leave on Wednesday morning, and in the meantime I am going to try and find the peace of this weekend.  The joy in the knowledge that Christ truly is the Savior.  Little else really matters, all that I am up to is a small slice of necessary roughness in this life, the real deal is much more important.  So I will spend time with friends, and pack the rest on Monday.  And for now I will ponder, and post. 
One of my favorite artists is James Christensen.  I love his painting of Gethsemane, as pictured here.  I have been saving for a small copy of this, not to hang in public space, but to keep in my room to remember the gift of His sacrifice to me; to remind me of the need to strive to be a better woman.   This painting is a reminder to me that in the worst of moments, that God never leaves us comfortless.  He always hears us, even when we are too deaf to hear His quiet whisperings.  Here is a tidbit, a thought for this weekend ... a moment to remember that whatever we are going through there is someone whose infinite love conquered all.   My tribute to my dearest friend, my brother, my Savior.

The Garden

I cannot know if the wind blew soft

or if the words of friends comforted His steps,

but I understand how some things

must be done alone.

In an olive scented grove, He knelt

to take the burdens I could never bear,

to pay the price I could never pay,

to give Himself completely to the Plan.

Alone, in the silence, He fully knew

all of pain, sorrow, and sin,

all of great and weak, glory and shame,

everything unfolded, all of each, all of me.

Throughout those few eternal hours

He knew every pain we would bear,

every price we'd be asked to pay,

and every tear we would cry.

Before the mockery of thorns

He proved Himself my king.

Before going to the cross

He gave His life willingly for me.

For more of greatness

occurs within silence.

More of love

without words.