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I Say Pih-KAHN

Image | | Marie Griffith

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One of my favorite things to do this time of year is gather pecans. We have two pecan trees across from our house that have been faithful to produce abundantly year after year.

Pecans are my favorite nut. I use them in all kinds of recipes, roast them for my oatmeal and salads, and eat them raw.  At almost $9 a pound for shelled ones, I’m thankful I’ve not had to buy them the last 13 years.

Many nut gatherers will take their bounty of pecans to the local co-op to have the nuts cracked and take them home to shell.  But Daddy taught me how to crack them to get the whole halves like you buy at the store so I do it myself. The secret is how you crack the pecan. I line the widest top part of the pecan up with the handles of my basic silver nutcracker and CRACK. When shelling the pecans I use the pick to dislodge the meat from the shell and clear out any of the bitters. That’s what we’ve always called the dark brown debris inside of the pecan shell.  If you eat a pecan with the bitters still lodged in the nut, you will know why.

A bag of shelled pecans is a much-loved Christmas gift around these parts. In fact, I’m working on shelling the two bags I will give away tomorrow.

Now my youngest daughter loves to gather, shell, and eat pecans as much as I do. And because of her grandpa’s secret, she cracks and shells them perfectly.

 

In response to the Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge Gathering.

Waiting

Image | | Marie Griffith

Christmas time is a nostalgic season. This year more than ever.

The memories of long ago Christmases…..the wishing and the dreaming and the waiting.  The waiting was one of the best parts because the waiting meant preparing.

Decorating and baking and shopping and wrapping.  The Christmas music. Mom’s orange balls. The twinkling lights. Grandmother’s little white church with the light inside that shone through the stained glass windows. Her ambrosia. The gathering of our big family and playing with all the cousins on Christmas Eve.

And this Santa ornament. Mom let me have it a long time ago. She was cleaning out her Christmas stuff and decided she didn’t want him or Mrs. Clause any more. His jolly round face reminds me of those days….the days of the waiting for Christmas morning.

The joy and longing and the hope that filled my heart as a child fills my heart still………even more…….each day.

For you have been my hope, Sovereign Lord, my confidence since my youth.      Psalm 71:5 NIV

In response to the Daily Post’s Anticipation.

This Friday

| Marie Griffith

In response to The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge Transition.

No Black Friday for me. I spent the day doing one of my favorite things in one of my favorite places with one of my favorite people. My youngest daughter and I hiked in The Sipsey Wilderness.

Creation is ever changing………year to year…….season to season…..morning to night…..moment to moment. The forest is bright green in the springtime with new leaves budding on the trees but now the forest is brown, and orange, with some splashes of red and even a hint of purple throughout.

No lines, or traffic or rushing around here.

Just boundless beauty all around us. The sounds of waterfalls and the leaves crunching under our feet.

Exactly what my soul needed today.

 

 

 

Victory

Image | | Marie Griffith

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Victory.”

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How does a photo of a light pink sunrise over a foggy hay field show victory?

About 4 months ago I made a change. I wake up an hour earlier so that I can run in the morning before work.

The victory is that I run. For a long time I believed I couldn’t run. But I did it anyway. Barely, but I did it. As my endurance increased I started to believe I could run. The more I believed the longer I ran. The longer I ran the more I believed.

And now I run. I will run my 2nd official 5K Thanksgiving morning. I ran my first 5K in April. It was a significant event for me that I wrote about in a post called Run.

Victory.

Another victory in this is that I made a new habit. A good habit. That first morning was hard but I did it anyway. Now I wonder what took me so long because the morning run on my country roads is one of my favorite parts of the day.

I experience all sorts of beautiful things on my morning runs. The sound of birds chirping, cows bellowing, the rooster crowing. I see the bright moon and stars in the dark sky just before the sun wakes up, or fog blanketing the fields, or glistening dew, or a light pink sunrise. And occasionally one of my neighbors sitting on his front porch drinking his coffee. We wave at each other as I run by.

Victory.

We’re not locked into what was or what always has been. We can change now and make what will be better than we ever dreamed.

This victory is only the beginning. I’ve decided to move from strength to strength and I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Triumph

In the Morning

Image | | Marie Griffith

In response to The Daily Post’s Flourish.

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Along my country road morning glory vines climb fence posts and spill onto the sides of the road. The sun was barely up one morning when I noticed hundreds of them in full bloom. I love the translucence of the violet petals, the lively heart shaped leaves, and the dew droplets……….

The morning glory will slowly swirl closed as the day fades.

Like the morning glory, I’m at my best in the early part of the day.

 

 ………But a shout of joy comes in the morning.    Psalm 30:5 NASB

Soul-Speed

Image | | Marie Griffith

 

IMG_2608I was sitting in one of my favorite spots this morning and noticed the sun shining onto the floor through the back door. I only noticed it because it’s the weekend and I was there on the love seat, sipping my 2nd cup
of coffee. On other days, I’m already at work by the time the sun comes through the grids on the door and makes this diamond shaped design on our bamboo floors.

But on the weekends I can sit and sip my coffee and read for as long as I like. I don’t have to be anywhere at a particular time. I move slower on these days……at soul-speed. The kind of pace that allows me to notice the way the sun is shining, and the leaves are changing, and the path the neighbor’s dog follows in the mornings. At soul-speed I can ponder things until they’re pondered out. At this pace I can have a nice long conversation with my husband and throw the ball with our dog for 30 minutes and make pancakes for the kids when they wake up.

At soul-speed, I catch up with myself.

The Last Time

| Marie Griffith

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None of us knew this would be the last time Mom and Dad were together.

Mom had been sick for years and Dad her sole caretaker for the last two. He was still working his full-time job out of his home office when he started feeling abnormally tired in the spring of 2014.

Mom hadn’t been out of the house for months…..except for an emergency room visit the month before. But she mustered up enough energy to go to the hospital to see Dad. He was in the intensive care unit. The visit from Mom was a surprise to Dad and the oxygen mask couldn’t hide the big smile on his face when he saw Mom.

They reached for each other and held each other’s hands. They told each other “I love you” and stared at each other. Squeezed and patted each others’ hands.

Those of us in the room felt the sacredness of the moment. I think they knew this was the last time.

The last time they’d hold hands. The last “I love you”. The last time they’d see each other.

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Connected.” and One Love.

You can read more of Mom’s and Dad’s story here.

Fog

Quote | | Marie Griffith

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Creepy.”

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This is the very first photo I snapped on my iPhone. Let me correct that. It’s the first one I kept. The first shot wasn’t focused at all. I tried again and this was the outcome. It’s grainy, but that adds to the feeling of the photo.

One of the first things I do in the morning is look out the window. I was surprised at the dense, heavy fog that covered the landscape and I wanted to capture the scene.

Everything seemed quieter than usual that morning, muted. The bare tree against the foggy mist looks so lonely there.

Grace

| Marie Griffith

“……and life itself is grace.” Frederick Buechner

What inspires me? I’ve pondered this and there are thousands of inspirations around me everyday. But the reason for those inspirations is grace.

Grace is why we have the things that inspire us.

How can a photograph capture the air in my lungs? Or the sound of laughter? Or adequately express the joy of new parents?

I can’t photo the warmth of a campfire or truly capture the awe inspired by star-gazing.

The mystery of marriage or the connection of friendship can’t be photographed. Neither the triumph of victory or the “coming through” of a dark season of life or the endurance of someone suffering physical or emotional pain.

Or love. The kind that transforms us and causes us to want to be better than we are. The kind that is so deep and high and wide.

It’s grace.

And the One who created all of it is the grace-giver. He is why we enjoy every good thing. He’s the mountain maker and the One who fills the oceans. He made every living creature on land and in the seas.

He gives us rainbows and roses. He gives us Dads and dandelions, sisters and seashells, babies and ponies. The moon and blue moons, too.

He’s the One breathing life into each one of us. The One who loves us, came down to us, and died for us.

That’s grace.

Grace is here. Now. All around us.

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God, Creator of the heavens – he is, remember, God – Maker of earth –
He put it on it foundations, built it from scratch.
He didn’t go to all that trouble to just leave it empty, nothing in it.
He made it to be lived in.             Isaiah 45:18 (MSG)

In response to The Daily Post’s Profound.