my attempt at blending the arts I cherish
just a few weeks ago at Sanctuary, a local worship service, i noticed a tiny little girl in the row before us. ashamedly i wondered if she was going to disrupt the service at all and be a hinderance to my time with the Lord. but the Father soon reminded me of Mark 10:14-16… “let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. . .and he took the children in his arms, put his hands on them, and blessed them,” when about three songs into the night, i beheld her glance at her mother, glance back at me, and then look all about her at the multitude of upraised arms… in her beautiful innocence she too lifted both her arms to heaven. i was brought to tears. i immediately began to pray that this was an indication of her future posture, for the continuation of her days. Father, bless her! bless her mornings and her nights. bless her comings and her goings. bless her heart and keep it safe. and Father, bless her little subconscious act of glorifying you at such a young age.
a week or so later while my family was vacationing on Tybee Island, daddy and i were enjoying the morning sun on the screened in porch. we talked, listened to music, and observed the road that our small cottage sat on. when all of a sudden we became keenly aware of a drama developing on the opposite porch of the opposite house. a father was on his telephone sitting somewhere out of sight and his little girl was dancing atop the outdoor dinner table. as he realized this, he began to yell at her: “EMMA! GET OFF THE TABLE RIGHT NOW!” then he uses the old “i’m counting to 3” tactic, and she quickly scrambles down. she prances about the rest of the porch for a while as if nothing has happened. her father, still on the phone, walks inside leaving little Emma all alone. she instantly closes the door behind him and clambers back onto the table to dance even more animatedly than before. dad and i are afraid she is going to fall and we will be the only witnesses! a couple minutes later the father returns to the scene…not on the phone anymore, but still engrossed by it–to the point that not only does he not notice his daughter defiantly on the table, but also he does not notice her at all. at what seemed amusing and hilarious before unexpectedly began to break my heart. i saw her, this tiny girl, aching for attention in the presence of her absent father…i saw her, years down the road, still vying for his attention through more drastic forms of rebellion…i saw her, much much older, broken/wounded/lonely from trying for so long to capture the attention of the men in her life. i shudder and wince. No! Father, please no! and my second prayer goes up. romance her, Father; champion her. bring her beautiful heart and path into your kingdom! don’t let her flesh and sinful nature ravish her soul; restore her in her coming years, i beg of you on her behalf!
these two images of two precious little ones have not lost their strength in my mind; the Lord will not allow it. therefore i will continue to pray not only for these daughters of the King, but also for the multitudes of forgotten ones around the world. they are my daily reminder of saving grace…
what if poems could be symphonies, and people their orchestra?
My semester abroad living in Bath, England and traveling across Europe.
Beautiful photos of hiking and other outdoor adventures.
Art and Design by Kathryn Buncik
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"...that the Lord has made."
my adventurous semester across the big blue