(no subject)

the Society of the Honor Guard-- Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

Please don't forget that this is the holiday for honoring ALL veterans, both living and passed. If you've always wanted to thank one of the people who "absolutely saved the world back in the 40's," you don't have much time left.

One of the good folks on another site I frequent is home on leave from overseas, and went to talk to his daughter's school. He reports that the kids there had a question he wasn't quite expecting: do you get to come home for your birthday?

No.

I don't know that I feel big enough to thank those who laid down their lives, who gave their health, both physical and mental, for the well-being of our country. I just don't have any words for them. "Thank you" doesn't seem like enough, but it's all I can say. "You're remembered and appreciated."

But for all those who've missed a birthday overseas, who've served and come back to find their children walking, their parents a little grayer and older, the trees a little taller, the houses a little drabber... thanks. You ARE remembered and appreciated.

science meets craft, again

DNA bases represented as four different quilt blocks

I don't know why, but science and crafting together make me happy.

ETA: I'm cutting quilt pieces, and now remember just how much rotary cutting makes my back hurt. UGH!

If I rise on the wings of the morning...

Those who know, know who this is for.

(Psalm 139, selection and commentary.)


If I rise on the wings of the morning, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.

When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.


I used to think it was silly and undignified to use the same words we use for human actions to talk about God in the abstract.

But if I knit, and it makes me happy to create things out of thought and sticks and strings, how much more awesome is it when God does it? I make things for people because not only are they nice (I hope), but they're made with love. And today I looked at the world around me and realized-- it's ALL made with love. Made, by hand, with love. And none of it lasts forever, which makes it even more precious.

I'm sad for a friend today, for her and her husband and their loss. I really am sorry and I wish I could do more. I wish I could do anything to take away that sadness, make things not have to be the way they are.

I'm sad, and I've cried, but under the sadness is a wide, wide ocean of love.

And the morning has wings, and I've never seen the far side of the ocean...