I saw this out of my window the other day. These people must have come to "town" to get some groceries. I thought it was interesting. I was longing a bit for the simplicity. The picture is grainy because of the screen on the window.
It's hard to be vulnerable. Sometimes I just sit and have myself a good cry. It's hard to practice death to self in the face of criticism, but Christ has called us to be vulnerable. It's hard letting people come and see the inner-workings of your home. It's hard to show your art. It's hard be vulnerable enough to share your music. It hurts when people repeatedly never show up to support you, but always want things from you. Christ calls us to carry on anyway. He asks us to continue to make ourselves vulnerable and expose ourselves to the harsh temperatures of this world. Our next act of grace might be the very one to help open blind eyes. Sometimes you simply wonder if anyone sees you at all. The fact is that it doesn't matter. Christ sees us. He sees us in the desert. What He needs is for us to see others. We must remain intrepid, undaunted. We must pursue the revelation of the beauty of Christ in everyone around us without regard to pain. That's the thing about grace. It isn't looking for anyone to pay it back.
I framed one of my prints in an old window frame and made a chalkboard with another. I am going to sell them at our town festival on October 22nd. The picture is $50.00 and the chalkboard is $25.00.
Andy digging holes all around our house to work on the leveling.
Our new picnic table. My mother-in-law found it at an estate sale. I think I want to paint it Tiffany box blue. It's hard to see, but it is under a great little canopy of branches.
Jackie playing with Laomai.
I am using this to get off the residual paint left after I use the heat gun. My current project is the bookcase in the foyer.
Look at that gorgeous wood that was covered up by paint.
Andy digging holes. Look at his snazzy new coveralls.