Phero Photos & Poetry

Little Boy Left Behinds

2012-03-01T14:37:00.001-08:00

I posted this over a year ago but have been thinking upon it much this week. I reminisce with the past and press into the present much more. Enjoy!

These little boy left behind’s cannot be packaged or wrapped. They cannot be boxed and stored in my closet where dust falls safe. They cannot be held in the palm of my hands though I eagerly long to gather them.

Yet, I have them now, at this moment and they are mine. I have many. So many I cannot keep count just as I cannot keep count the number of breaths I breathe each hour. Yet, these left behinds breathe right along with me and whisper sweet, “Momma I need you.”

So, I bend my back low and carry ‘round my hip and I pour out my dry, cracking hands for the needs of my own… and I keep at forgetting.

Putting aside the One who’s back bent lower for me and who’s hands pour out over all the left behind’s that have settled since Eve left her garden.

Not only dry and cracked but stained red as they dripped are THE HANDS that have let me taste and see through my little boys left behind’s so that I too will whisper…
“ I need You” to Him.

An updated version of my little boy left behinds to come soon....

Spring is Nearing!

2012-02-25T16:11:00.000-08:00

Homemade Toys for Toddlers

2012-02-23T12:36:00.001-08:00

Click Here to See Full Article and Ideas

18 Awesome Homemade Toys for Toddlers

Posted by Emily on February 2nd, 2012 at 4:35 pm

I think one of the most fun parts of being a parent is watching your child play. Whether it’s building a city with blocks, or using their imagination to pretend they are captains of a ship sailing on the sea and trying to get away from sea monsters, it is just so amazing to watch their little minds work.
Of course, open-ended toys that allow for all different kinds of fun and imaginative play are a better option than toys that do most of the playing for the child.
One great way to provide fun open-ended toys for your kids is to make them yourself, from items you may already have sitting around your house.
As a part of our No TV Month Challenge, I want to try to make a few new toys for my kids to play with and enjoy, so I’ve been gathering some ideas and inspiration.

Here are eighteen great ideas for homemade toys for toddlers:

To Love Your Neighbor

2012-02-21T14:14:00.000-08:00

As YoUrSeLF...

Only a driveway width away Don and Margie watched our 1953 home be built

as they built there own.

90 years of lovin life and 69 years of saying 'I do!'

says more about this sweet couple than a handfull of words written.

What does loving each other look like in our day in & day out routines side by side?

Somtimes it's a hug...

and sometimes it's listening long or

its a glass of wine with Don

as he shares life stories you would find in comical western books.

Sometimes its bringing a bowl of soup over or Margie sharing one of her baked goods.

It's getting each others mail,

it's fixing a simple computer problem or

grabbing a suitcase from the attic.

It's been crying together at times and holding out hope at other times.

It's been a treat out to dinner, a yard mowed, and even a garaged fixed.

Its even the simple smalls like turning on a dvd player or tying a shoe.

It has also been taking pictures for their 90th Birthday Celebration

Calling each other 'Family'

because that is what dying to yourself does when you love someone over.

In what ways have you had opportunties

to love your neighbor or be loved by them?

Leave a comment and share your love moments with us!

My Sweet Boy

2012-02-03T14:40:00.000-08:00

Little Boy Blue & Big Sister too!

2012-02-02T10:10:00.000-08:00

The Riemer Family welcomed Hunter Curtis just 4 weeks ago. Big sister, Abigail loves being a little 'mommy' to her baby. Congratulations to the growing family!

It was a joy to capture this treasured time!

Time to Book Sr. Portraits!

2012-01-23T13:24:00.000-08:00

Dove Ivey

2012-01-14T17:53:00.000-08:00

Doesn't her name fit her pictures perfectly?

The sweetest little bonnet baby girl I've photographed.

BOYS!

2012-01-12T12:05:00.001-08:00

The Sweetness of a Friend

2012-01-10T10:29:00.000-08:00

"Oil and perfume make the heart glad, and the sweetness of a friend comes from his earnest counsel"

Proverbs 27:9

Dave & Jess are two of our closest friends who we treasure deeply.

They serve as missionaries in Moscow, Russia

. We are refreshed with love and wisdom when they visit.

They will welcome their first baby boy in early March.

A New Ring... A New Year

2012-01-01T18:21:00.000-08:00

I've heard the way you can tell if a crystal glass is pure or not is by its ring.

Does it clap with beauty when tapped?

Does a melody form in the ear when silver clinks the curved body?

So it is with discerning whether words are true.

You know they are real when it sings inside you as to join in chorus with the Holy Spirit.

It's composition is whole.

Its symphony pure.

Thus you get the phrase, "Sound Doctrine"

Words written by Ann Voskamp rang with truth two nights ago as I wept within a tornado of grief.

Why I picked up her book ? Why I chose this chapter? That, I am not the author of.

She writes in regard to her little sister whom she watched crush under heavy truck wheels and bleed red in her mothers arms until she breathed no more...

"How should anything be amiss? I can see her name on that stone, five letters of my little sister named,

"loved one,"

and I won't shield God from my anguish by claiming He's not involved in the ache of this world

and Satan prowls but he's a lion on a leash and the God who governs all

can be shouted at when I bruise,

and I can cry and I can howl and He embraces...the David- hearts

who pound hard on His heart with their grief

and I can moan deep that He did this--- and He did. - Ann Voskamp

God writes...

" See now that I, I am He, and there is no god besides Me; It is I who put to death and give life.

I have wounded and it is I who heal. (Deuteronomy 32:39)

I know this. I know this now. I know this even though I have fought hard against it.

So, I raise my glass to Christ, the author of all truth that rings within our souls.

(c) Emily Murphy

Psalms of the Promised Land

2011-12-20T15:25:00.000-08:00

Tweets Poetry - December challenge is the Villanelle, a poetic form that employs repeated phrases throughout to create a sing-song rhythm. What you start with in the poem you are stuck with, making the poem take on a form of its own yet leaving you challenged to use the same rhythm.

The High Calling's photo challenge is to capture the sounds of Christmas through photography.

So, we were to create words that speak to noise and capture holiday sounds with photographs.

I couldn't help but think of the sounds I wouldn't hear this year.

Psalms of the Promised Land

Her psalms which have long-parted
Echo soft in memories clinched

Yet she sings of hymns in the Promised Land

Carols of she and the children at play

Fade with brushes of the wind with
Her pslams which are long-parted

A different clatter among the home

Her abscense…the silence rings

Yet she sings of hymns in the Promised Land

Christmas can’t be kept from coming

Nor can the thief who steals, who kills

her psalms which have long-parted

Glory holds frailty up toward heaven

And knits the holiday noise this year with
Her psalms which have long-parted

Yet she sings of hymns in the Promised Land

In fondest memory of my sweet little sister Hailey Elaine Wolcott

Visit more here: Sept. 25, 1986 - May 22, 2011

The Wade Family

2011-12-14T09:59:00.000-08:00

You'll fall in love with these little boys and their bow ties... I did!

The Wells Family Part II

2011-12-13T12:01:00.000-08:00

Bruner Boy Bliss

2011-12-09T20:05:00.000-08:00

A Double Portion of Joy!

Healthy twin boys were born on the 7th by proud parents,

Dr. & Mrs. Bruner.

The boys also have a proud older sister

who tops them by only 17 months!

What a busy and happy home they will have.

I was able photograph in the delivery room & made it just in time

to capture the twins minutes after being born.

High-five Momma, you did great!

Tears of such rich joy!

Instead of your shame there shall be a double portion; instead of dishonor they shall rejoice in their lot;therefore in their land they shall possess a double portion; they shall have everlasting joy.

Isaiah 61: 7

A Little Holiday In Our Home

2011-12-06T21:00:00.000-08:00

Meredith & Brandt

2011-11-28T16:33:00.000-08:00

Enchanting, Engaged

in Bliss...in Love

in Kiss...in Hug

a Bride in purity

a Groom in security

a Vow to be spoken

a Covenant to be woven

soon to be

ONE!

This has been one of my favorite sessions! Thank you Meredith & Brandt

for letting me be a part of wrapping up this time in love through my camera!

~ Emily Murphy

Goodnight Moon

2011-11-12T09:22:00.000-08:00

Goodnight room.... Goodnight Moon

Goodnight bears... Goodnight chairs

Goodnight little house... and Goodnight mouse

Goodnight passies and Goodnight air...

Goodnight noises everywhere.

Some quotes taken from Goodnight Moon ~ BY Margaret Wise Brown

Mommy, Did it Hurt to Fall In Love with Daddy?

2011-11-07T14:29:00.000-08:00

Do you know that sound old wood floors make? The crackling sound joined with the pat and pitter of feet scurrying along lined wooden pieces. It’s one of the sweetest sounds I hear when my little one of four years runs down our hallway barefooted and free. He makes his way toward me and snuggles his brow up under my arm close to my lap. He gazes upward into my eyes. We see so close to catch the apple or ‘little man’ of the eye in each other. He wears a shy tender countenance that tells me has something to say, something important to whisper to his Momma.

“What is it sweetheart?” I encourage his small voice to share. He looks down and then back up, “Mommy, did it hurt when you fell in love with Daddy?”

I grin with wonder at how this question came about. Just minutes ago he was reading with his Daddy from The Jesus Story Book Bible, by Sally Lloyed-Jones.

Physically we didn’t fall - so no we did not find hurt that way, but did it hurt to fall in love?

The only honest way to answer was to say yes.

“Yes" (I pause).

"Yes, it did hurt to fall in love with Daddy.” The second question came naturally, “Well, why?”

I take a deep breath, I ponder a minute, then begin…

“You know how sometimes Mommy raises her voice when you haven’t obeyed and how that is wrong and it hurts your heart when I do that.” “Yes,” He understands. “And you know how much Mommy loves you and how I take care of you and spend special time with you every day?” “Yes,” This boy knows love for I see him love passionately. “Well, you see that is how love can hurt. Mommy loves you and spends lots and lots of time with you but sometimes I can do things that hurt you too. So the same thing happened when Mommy and Daddy spent lots of special time together and got to know each other. We also did things that hurt each other. We still loved each other and keep at loving each other but we will also keep hurting each other as long as there is love between us.” He gently pushes back saying, ‘Oh’ and skips off as if the world made complete sense all over again.

I’ve thought long about this question. I’ve thought about how loving God let in pain. How loving him along with trusting him bears unimaginable agony when its crashes against unanswered questions. When it greets me in the night with the missing of my sister and how I am supposed to understand his love for her... for me. How I am to gather this love well in my soul when the result of her life ended at age 24?

I sit with a pit in my stomach at the thought of her sufferings from hell as she wrestled the pitch blackness of suicidal depression. God loves me still, right? God loved her, didn't he? This pain that comes with the battle to believe His love is unlike any type of hurt I’ve felt. God’s sovereignty: always a treasured comfort prior to this. Now it’s one of the most disturbing truths to welcome. I will not have answers. . I cannot handle understanding what God has meant to never be grasped by the human mind. Many of us have been here. I know this.

Then something happened that I know could only have been love. Love from Him.

I turned the question around.

“Did it hurt God to love me?”

The richest of pain came clinging with Jesus’ love for me as it drove Him toward His Gethsemane

and His Calvary!

It only made sense that this same love accompanied with pain wasn’t just on the cross but that it had to of started in the beginning. I open up my boys Jesus Story Book Bible and see it written on the pages….

“You (Adam & Eve) will have to leave the garden now. God told his children, his eyes filling with tears. This is no longer your true home, it’s not the place for you anymore. But before they left the garden, God made clothes for his children, to cover them. …God loved his children too much to let the story end there. Even though he knew he would suffer, God had a plan – a magnificent dream. One day he would get his children back. One day, he would make the world their perfect home again. And one day, he would wipe away every tear from their eyes. …God would love his children with a Never stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love. And though they would forget him, and run from him, deep in their hearts, God’s children would miss him always, and long for him… Before they left the garden, God whispered a promise to Adam and Eve: ‘It will not always be so! I will come to rescue you! And when I do, I’m going to do battle against the snake. I’ll get rid of the sin and the dark and the sadness you let in here. I’m coming back for you! And he would. One day, God himself would come.

Does it hurt to fall in love?...

Yes!

For it hurt Him first to fall in love with us!

(c) Emily Murphy

Photographs are taken by me from the art illustrated by Jago in, The Jesus Story Book Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones

The Wells Family - Part I

2011-11-01T14:49:00.001-07:00

We met up in the panhandle of Texas. The town goes by the name Lubbock.

I hold treasured memories from those years in college

and had the pleasure of continuing to be a part of capturing more.

Rich beauty bleeds deep in the soul of him and her and shines through their countenance below.

Enjoy -----

What happens when one of those cute pups comes n gives me a big old slobbery kiss

while shooting.... ?

A pretty neat piece of art if you ask me!

The Breeding Family

2011-10-18T20:01:00.000-07:00

This couple welcomed pink just eighteen months ago and

will soon setttle into the color baby blue.

Nine months almost up, maternity clothes will sit aside.

Such a drifting of time goes sooner than days long like to tell.

Such moments with my camera, a deep joy to my soul

as I work to bottle time such as this.

A time to treaure.

To store, to hold still.

Fall into Fall & grab a Session Soon!

2011-10-08T09:04:00.000-07:00

Sometime To Tell

2011-09-28T20:43:00.001-07:00

Swirled hazel curls, soft velvet blushed skin, silver overall clasps, an 'Osh Kosh' stamped within. Toy tractor bright red,

a train right beside him, lashes long lay with a tiny dimpled grin.

Seems simple to some ... yet so something to me.

Something to tell, that sometime when...

he says,

"Mommy, what was I like way back when?"

~ Jonah, nearly 2 years old. ~

What of the Rain?

2011-09-18T19:38:00.000-07:00

Drops drip to kiss soft the tips of my toes

Dew rest weighty upon my body moist

Shadows play with light—the drum follows loud

Canopying leaves begin a Tribal Dance

And then God hugs me wild with His wind

(C) Emily Murphy - Sept. 18, 2011

A Colorful Providence

2011-09-12T06:09:00.001-07:00

Water Hose + Jonah =

2011-09-10T20:58:00.000-07:00

Today

2011-09-08T21:21:00.000-07:00

I cannot swallow away the pain

to spare my soul its stifling

Too rich a taste is her goodbye,

to let a thing please the tongue

Numb beneath warm-bodied skin

I blend with the passing moon

© Emily Murphy - September 8, 2011

A Glimpse Through My Lens

2011-08-17T15:18:00.000-07:00

Phero Photos

Portraiture Photography by Emily Murphy

If you are looking to book a photographer in the Dallas, TX area

for the holidays or any type of portraiture needs

please contact me at pherophotos@yahoo.com

I would love to bottle some memories for you!

Hannah Jane ~ 1 year pictures

2011-08-12T10:56:00.000-07:00

Camp Dakota 2011

2011-07-29T16:58:00.000-07:00

A Beautiful Bunch of Murphys

The pictures tell the story more than words...

memories were made and relationships were deepend.

These are a few of my Favorite Faces....

2011-07-06T21:33:00.000-07:00

(c) Emily Murphy

We bottled some memories last weekend at Grandaddy's lake house,
also known as

"Tonkawea Wolcott" -
which means: Keeping together Wolcott's.

July 4th, 2011

See more memories on my sisters blog here: Meet the Walkers

Lush

2011-06-27T19:17:00.000-07:00

Lush life buds before me
while cricket sounds debut
the coming out of flowered faces
pirouetting with the wind

Salt glazed to the lash,
shoulders shrug

Our first porch wooden and a fence to
dance the boundary lines clean.
I keep at keeping up the lush
wetting the ground beading tears

Lungs starved for air,
chest raises deep

The parched twig a part of me
My canvased field brushed crimson.
I keep the green growing,
busy my hands bustling dirt.

Fetal curved under sheets
fingers clinch

It was her I couldn’t keep or
She wouldn’t have…
She wouldn’t have used a gun that day.
She wouldn't have left the lush.

© Emily Murphy – June 27^th 2011

Sun Sparkles for Paper Mama

2011-06-27T17:35:00.000-07:00

My 3 year old in the place we call 'The Golden Field"

If...

2011-06-22T16:29:00.000-07:00

If I could rewind time...
   if I could hold memories still ....
                       if I could bottle history,
without the mechanics of the camera....
        oh how I would.

Life

2011-06-18T11:33:00.000-07:00

A Long Parting

2011-05-31T09:29:00.000-07:00

Hailey Elaine Wolcott

September 25, 1986 - May 22, 2011

The curser blinks at me waiting for words to be typed.... yet I find myself staring back at it,

as if it's going to start typing for me.

"No one can talk away the pain. Grief drains most words of their power anyway." -Sprague

I was her sister of six years older. Now the passing pain of time, days, & years does't exist for her anymore. This long parting, somehow mysteriously chosen for me,

and for the family & friends she left behind

stings strong.

It was in this very aching of passing time, the deep shadows of 'the fall' and the hauntings of suffering

she could bear no more.

So she chose to go.

I sip from a mug she gave me, I rest on the couch that only a mere week ago she rested with me. I pass pictures where she stares back at me and believe she will walk through my front door yet again.

I hear my boy ask, "Is Aunt Hay Hay all better now?"

I answer the only way I know how, ...

"Yes, sweet boy, she's all better. She's with Jesus, she's ALL better.

She's happy, she's safe and their is no more pain, no more tears..

"Do you remember how we've talked about how Jesus will wipe away all our tears?"

His little hand reaches up to my face wet and wipes my cheeks.

Even knowing she's all better the three words I battle wearisome each day...

"Why?" ... "What if..."

Then strangely I find other words of grief comfort me....

' But what about until Heaven? How do you drag a heavy, frozen heart around every day and night? It's exhausting. Like a fever. But cold.

And you think you will never feel very much again. Except the pain. ' - Sprague

To view Hailey's Legacy Link for her Obituary click the link below

Hailey E. Wolcott - Legacy Link

Hodge Family - Country Chic

2011-05-15T21:06:00.000-07:00

I hope you're wear'n a good 'ol Texas smile after seeing these!

The Hodge Family - Group 1

2011-05-13T12:35:00.000-07:00

I had the treat of capturing 'a day in the life' of the two sweetest pink cheeked, red head girls I know. A day in the life with this family was a true treasure and delight.
I followed the girls and their sweet Mama around as the bathed, dressed, played,
& hunted for unwanted bugs outdoors.

We ended with a country-chic family session in a tall golden grass field.

Over the next few days I am posting some of my favorites from each of these moments.
Enjoy!

When I look at this profile ...I pause.

Her Hands

2011-05-09T08:17:00.000-07:00

Hers were the prayerful hands to touch me first,

the day I nearly may not have been.

Hers were the praises which were said

That day her body wearisome bled

Hers was the embrace which cupped me first,

all five pounds wrapped up in charis

Hers were the lips which touched me then,

upon her breast, a tiny head beneath her chin

Hers were the gentle arms which ‘hugged up’ first

the many a’ moonlit eve’s by my bed.

Hers were the hands which held me then

The night I tearful told my aching for a friend

Hers were the “I love you’s” soft spoken first

with a sureness of depth which tree roots grow.

Hers were the “I love you’s” not said in words,

the tender three squeeze her palm constant assured.

Hers were the mornings she greeted me first,

for curls, stockings, pink blush and His word.

Hers were the fingers, aging even when

playing with her rings upon the pew carved wooden.

Hers were the tear drops which hoped for me first

when dorm walls distanced her touch.

Hers was the gift I turned then to open,

Of ‘Gods Calling’ I saw her bow gaze at so often.

Hers were the ears I tickled to tell first,

when his knee bent down asking for me.

Hers were the fingers who tenderly wove

The day wearing white I radiantly did glow.

Hers was the ‘Grand’ moment I shared with first

upon pouring my soul out during birth

Hers are the hands, aged even more,

I see whisper love; cradling soft my boys.

Hers was the face I longed to see first

when the storms of life robbed my breath.

Hers was the hand rested sure on my back

that night darkness hovered the gripping color black

Hers was the toil, scores of days and nights

when the sparing of hope haunted my soul.

The road to recover, heal and to mend

found me as her hands ready-made me to stand.

Her hands have shared with me the smell of God

For they’ve held, taught, served and sang –

A story, these hands like hers, aging too

retell to the boy humming on the church row pew.

This Mothers Day I am sobered as I have learned there are elementary children

where we live that must get themselves up & ready to make the bus for school.
Why?
They fear getting a spanking if they wake their Mom up in the morning.

Happy Mothers Day to all the the Mommy's who

embrace & have embraced the challenging call to pour out
their hands

for the sake of their children.

Undressing Your Landscape

2011-04-27T19:31:00.000-07:00

The water ripples, reflecting bits of sun, but even still, the child’s refection is dark

and his face is down.

This is where I stand to take the picture, this is the angle I choose.
Is he happy? Is he sad? Could he be scared or confused? Is he simply content?....

Where is the child and who is that behind him?
Is that person safe?

Or is this person someone who says he's to be trusted but

to the mature eye not one to be trusted at all.

How do we know unless more is exposed?

How do we know any different as we grow unless we expose the dark we did, the dark we went through, the dark done to us, the dark we wrestle with today?

We will know or live no differently unless it comes out of that black place?

What could be seen on the other side of dark, called light, unless we start to feel this light just a little?

How do we know this place of light, unless we let the One called Light, know us?

Would we dare to allow this Light to touch us?

Would we test the welcoming of It even with the paralleling fear of pain that comes

luring with this welcoming?

Do we risk learning ways to see things in a different color, with a new angle,

with changing eyes, and the warmth of rays?

There is Only One who says I let light shine out of darkness for the darkness is but light to Me!

see following image to continue...

The toddler's cheeks are curled with laughter; he glows into his refection, and has little knowledge of the how the sun kisses him as it sketches the edges of his shape. He's surrounded by life, Chlorophyll life! How would one know this unless the picture were taken at a low angle, exposing the face, showing off natures call of duty; to sit beautiful!

The back ground swirls with a bokeh of lime greens, whites, chestnuts and browns... he's happy, he knows it and he loves where he is and who he is with. He's exposed and he's safe. One day he will understan that He's known by a the One who drew every inch of his image and who will call out to Him as He grows so that He cannot deny that there is in fact, Light in the darkness of the world he pilgrims upon...there is light in the shadows as he waits for the trumpet to sound.

Here's a typical front shot of subjects upon church steps. The architecture of the building hardly shows the beauty, the lines, and the curves it should. The metal rails are an eye sore and don't give justice to the majestic feel under the roofed edge I know hides beneath the arches.

see following image to continue...

Now here we are... tucked under the nook of this historically restored, inner-city church.

Under the arches that sing, 'Holy is the Lord,' I find my lighting.

Beneath the lanterns that call out to the night; I make sure they are seen hung in my fame.

Against the deep brunette doors dancing with stained glass and antique door handles my boys rest. Here the subjects take shade from the bright light called Sun.

They sit, they play, I snap the camera...

and God displays His glory through my lens.

These pictures and words were submitted to The High Calling Photoplay challenge.

http://www.thehighcalling.org/culture/photoplay-undress-your-landscape

The Geiger Family

2011-04-25T11:10:00.000-07:00

The beautiful family following these words are dear friends of ours.

The Pastor of our church, Cristo Rey Presbyterian, his wife and their four adorable children are photographed below. We are blessed by the preaching of Gods word through Josh each Sunday, I am blessed by the rich fellowship & friendship of Shannon, his wife and our boys are blessed by the active play times they have together with their children.

They have served as a family in the bi-lingual (English & Spanish) ministry
of Cristo Rey for the past 9 years.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

The Backdrop... The Beauty.

2011-04-22T14:13:00.000-07:00

Probably my favoirte part of this photograph, other than that boy in those blue wranglers, is the collage of painted colors wallpapering the backdrop of my 3yr old cowboy.

I continue to be amazed at Gods creation through the lens.

The Sorry Box

2011-04-09T11:12:00.000-07:00

A brown boarded box sits quiet on the kitchen table. Pieces of lined white paper rest close, the pencil lay in place beside the box, ontop the paper.
The bold black words written strong spell... Sorry Box.

A place where we write our sorry's, our mistakes, our shamful moments of the day that heavy sit on our souls go on these blank pieces of paper thin. The box keeps hold of these witten confessions so we don't have to.

I walk by this box every hour of the day and I am faced to ponder...

'Do I need to pick up that pencil wooden?'

A Little Bubbly!

2011-03-30T17:09:00.000-07:00

Looking into this picture I find the mist of worries that hover settle down more faint and I am well reminded of the riches that pass by me daily such as a full supply of clean water upon which I don't have to be concerned when my chidren gulp it down!

Enough Bubbly For Me!

The Beauty of Shooting into the Sun & Some Rail Road Tracks Just for Fun!

2011-03-23T19:59:00.000-07:00

Words for What's in a Word

2011-03-08T20:10:00.000-08:00

Lines, curves, connecting, pausing, parting.

Tones whose punctuation builds inside context.

The warmth of one’s breathe greeted with sound

The friction of one’s hand running along lined paper

The pressure of the fingertip upon keys square-shaped.

The force of the tongue upon the roofed arch of

a mouth, for the welling up of one's soul

as to petition the mind inside them with another.

The pine within us to be au fait with a friend and

the quest to know how to be able to be known

must hold hands with words written, spoken, …even signed.

The wellspring of the heart overflows to the lips,

the fingers with pen, the symbolizing hands, and even

the tap, tap, tap of the lettered keyboard.

Not only that, but the coos, cries, babble of the baby

seem meaningless to the mature but the deepest of meaning to them.

The written Word. The Agape Letter scribed for all tongues.

The WORD, before breath shook dust and shaped

the man, then woman from the rib of the Adam, once dust.

Breath from The WORD gave words to the first of His image,

so much, as to have him call every creature by name.

The grip of the WORD, no mark of mistake, no jot

or tittle out of place. The WORD that never falls

to the ground void, like ours do over and over and over.

If words true meaning were only able to be known by the speaker,

why would speech have been destined by The WORD Himself?

Inside a word, lay a gift from the Being who made us to have

mouths, hands, motion, expression, souls that sing and

more so, souls that will forever praise with Him or

groan apart. Words eternal? YES! Words meaningful?

Absolutely, to the deepest of depths. Words written by

His very finger in the dirt to the wearisome woman, whose body

and essence beckoned, even desired death; He so saved with those

words. His WORD, you ponder? A mystery of all mysteries, a piece

of art which calls even the most brilliant minds to bend down

and find with all their words read and said are left... speechless!

I wrote this poem for this week's Random Acts of Poetry at The High Calling.

The prompt is "What's in a Word?"

A Day in March Five Years Ago

2011-03-04T13:19:00.000-08:00

This same day in March, five years ago I wake to the chirping sounds of morning. Flutters inside and bliss from cheek to cheek radiate in and through my soul. I ready my shape to dress in white, I brush my face with color, I tangle my hair to smooth up into rolling forms of beauty; though some falls ‘round my forehead. I place lace upon my bun brunet. The same sun that met me with the chirping morn now highlights my silhouette and we stand only an aisle away face to face. My feet, dancing with bone leather and beaded pearls, step in sync with the instrumental air. Closer and closer to my groom I become. The pebbled stone between us comes to a close; only unspoken vows stand between us now. Our eyes meet, our smiles pierce through one another, and the words we utter leave our mouths and enter one another’s souls. Drops of wet roll down my cheeks, he wipes them away just as Jesus promises to do in the last day. Happy tears are what I tell our three year old when gazing through the leather bound book of pictures, now five years old too. Happy tears then, happy tears now.

This same day in March, five years ago, the rolling green behind us, the future before us… the future before us still. Still. I think on this word still. I think of Gods promises and the promises we made and must continue to make. I think of His promise to use our promised vows to accomplish this promise below…and still I am in awe that it’s you!

“Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations;
I will be exalted in all the earth.”
Psalm 46:10

In honor of our fifth year anniversary,

I love you Jack Murphy

Fruit

2011-02-28T16:13:00.000-08:00

We've seen so many children struggle with peer pressure, learning differences, and even the lack of interest to learn themselves that cynicism creeps in and you begin believing the odds are stacked towering against them that these little ones have such a small chance of hope to succeed. I've wondered if change is even possible. The 4th grade boy next to Jackson has been a special little boy to our family. We call him May May. We use to see him getting into trouble with other kids, and we knew he struggled in school. We haven't had a lot to do with helping him study, or stay out of trouble but we have been led to pray for him and love on him when we could. This past school year we saw May May less and less. Something must have changed. When I would see him I would ask him where he had been; his response was always the same, "I have to study now Mrs. Emily."

Recently he had dinner with us and his maturity was incredible. He expressed that he is now no longer popular because he doesn't pick on other kids anymore. He in turn is now teased because of this. He shared how he is okay with it because he doesn't want to get into trouble anymore and he doesn't want to have to make fun of others to be popular. Just today he came over simply to share that he had passed all his classes this report card session! He has gone from making 50's and 60's to one high C, and the rest A's and B's and reading is now his favorite subject. So, just like the title of the book they are reading, How Big is God? ... Jackson's response, with armes spread wide east to west; 'SO BIG'!

What is impossible with man, IS possible with God! Luke 18:27

Today's Housewife

2011-02-23T07:18:00.000-08:00

I had the honor of being a guest writer on a Christian Woman's Blog called Today's Housewife.

Click the link below to view!

Today's Housewife

Granhappy

2011-02-19T07:06:00.000-08:00

Nearly 65 years of marriage, a lieutenant in the U.S. Navy during World War II, a successful and full career as an Engineer, the raising of 3 daughters, 8 grandchildren, and 5 great grandchildren, and a journey with Christ that is now no longer in part but in full, we said good bye to a wonderful man.

I honor him with these jotted down pieces of precious memory.

The Man I Call Granhappy

The fading burnt orange glass

dancing with dimples to fit my fingers

is filled to the lip

with a malt made just precisely by him

I watch him pull mints from

his jacket pocket

and hand them to girls in dresses

and boys in khaki slacks;

He’s the usher at church

who places candy in tiny palms.

I’m proud he’s my Grandad,

I’m proud he’s that usher.

I watch his fingers fall through

the fur of Rufus and Buck, then Jackson and the Alphie’s.

They sit akin to their master.

They love because they know his love.

He sits across my mothers work desk

and sips slowly from a mug

filled black with coffee

“I like it black, like my heart!” – He jokes… again.

I watch him keep to loving Nanie

the woman he still calls – “My Bride.”

He hugs her, he kisses her,

he knows her well.

He rests on the two seated couch

while the sounds of the ball park

fill the space.

He watches with his ears… and smiles.

Granhappy is quiet, like me.

I like that and I believe

we could have a conversation

without any words and be just fine.

His gaze, though not really a gaze at all;

rather the itching of his ears when I am near –

knows that it’s me

before I can say, “It’s me!”

Walter is his name but, like I said, he’s

Granhappy to me.

There is something he loves to say and that’s –

“Well girls, see ya around the pool hall.”

And that is just that-

You will see us at the pool hall.

You will even see the One who says, “I am He.” –

For you do see yet again.

February 13^th 2011 - In tender memory of my Granhappy, Walter Heffler.

Vintage

2011-02-09T12:57:00.000-08:00

My Jonah

2011-02-01T20:43:00.000-08:00

My baby boy now not such a baby as he toddles well in all his wobbly bits at the age of one and a half now. In this picture, with sand between his toes he was only crawling, or I should say "crawlking." This was his way of moving around on the floor with one knee bent down and the other knee up with foot down - it looked like a half walk, half crawl - thus, the crawlk! How I love him so even with his little temper, pinching, and yes even hitting. We are sinful at birth that is for sure. He adores trains, burst with laughter when dumping anything out on the floor, and tearing down his older brother block towers. The bath is not only for bathing but Jonah will crawl over the edge of the tub, plop himself down on the bottom and play, play, play. Who knew a tub without water was the new play pen? He eagerly tries to keep up with his 3 yr. old brother so much so that he finds himself face down on the cement quite often, but only to bounce back up and keep on truck'n. When tired, he reaches those plump arms up toward me, wraps them tight around my neck and then ever so kindly rubs my ear over and over with his tiny fingers. I tell him he has his own ears to soothe with, but if he really understood what I was saying, I would never utter those words aloud for I will miss those five little fingers on my ears very much some day. "Jonah, in six months you will be two and that will come way too soon."

Take hold of the days you have and you will find what the day has will take hold of you.

Countenance

2011-01-17T19:24:00.000-08:00

Countenance: (Ayin - in Hebrew) - the sense of something acted upon by an outside force,

as an eye is by light, ...

eye, sight, appearance, presence, ...

the appearance of a person, the face of a person, the presence of a person...

figuratively, the eye is the outer reflection of an inner attitude!

the eye is the light of the body (Matt. 6:22) ...

Black & White ~ New Beginnings

2011-01-07T11:37:00.000-08:00

This is one of my favorite pictures in black and white. I think it may be her dark features and black leggings contrasted against the light chain linked fence. To read more about black and white and see other photographers creativity visit http://thepioneerwoman.com/

This precious shot looks great in Black & White or Color - but I am finding I really like it in black & white because it put those lengthy eyelashes out on display in a more dramatic way and made his precise pinpoint freckles pop out all the more.

A photo Bokeh for the Holiday

2010-12-24T11:56:00.000-08:00

Bokeh - is “the blur, or the aesthetic quality of the blur, in the out-of-focus areas of an image.”

I have been trying to teach myself this Bokeh technique for the past few days. One snow globe down and about 30 different shots with a number of objects and attempts; and I finally figured it out. (Note to self: Do not pull up blinds while breakable snow globe rests peacefully on the pane). There is always room to improve but what was an old ordinary bundle of glittering blue grapes that sat cattywonkus in our fir tree turned into something 'magical' with this purposed out-of-focus form of blur and light. What was even more magical was how pleasantly surprised I was that I didn't act like a crazy woman when shattering pieces of glass and glitter splattered all over my tiled floor. I began thinking... isn't this what blur and light is all about. What may seem to the eye another ordinary human being is yet to Him, who looks beyond, magically stunning. He purposes to use the 'out-of-focus' areas of our image to be shaped into something magical through our day to day happenings. He takes our blur and His Light and blends us into so much more than ordinary. So much more that we in fact are made ever so tenderly into His very image. So I in fact can respond peacefully to a not so peacful circumstance; such as scattering snow globe pieces. Its a little thing, I know, but if we cant let the little things shape us the bigger things will end up shattering us.

His Bokeh is magical not only during the holidays but now and forever more!

Have yourself a merry little Christmas tonight!

On another note, here is my not so sheepish, Sheep and his TaTa who came to see his debut.