Vitamin Dust

It is time
to wash our van.
The grime, in layers stands.
The poor rig - it's traveled
many
long
miles
from where its once began,
and surely longs to be clean.

But see, this dust, right here?
It is treasured dust,
dirt from whence we came;
and in the evening light
I've watched it fade
and sparkle
and gleam
like a thousand flecks of gold.

And oh, dear, how I fear
the day that gold dust goes!

It's like a blanket -
securely ensconsing this trip
in the wonderful cloak of the past.

But ...it is time.

Soon, soon, I'll wash this van,
and our dusty, dingy
ride will shine
with the taunting red gleam
of the untraveled roads
left to find.

Vitamin Seek

"I do not seek yours, but you." - 2 Corinthians 12:14

"Who wants to help me cook dinner?" It's a common enough question around my house, and the response is just as predictable.

"Me! Me! Me!" From three separate corners of the house, three eager voices chime in, anxious to be the first to win the coveted spot on the stool next to Mommy. It's glorious to feel so wanted ... to know how much my children long to help me.

But soon their other motivation shines through.

"Do you see that white stuff there on the counter?" my three year old asks as soon as she's suited up in an apron and handed the appropriate mixing spoon. Busy with my recipe, I nod. It's probably flour - maybe sugar. I've forgotten what's always comes next.

"Well, can I lick it up?" my daughter asks. Her eyes are shining. She's positive that the mystery substance will be the reward she was seeking when she volunteered to be my helper in the first place.

I stop work and gaze at her momentarily, caught for a second by the poignancy of her simple, yet ardent, desire for this 'treat' - placed, as it is, next to what should have been treat enough, getting to work next to Mom. I'm immediately pricked by the strong similarity between she, my precious and transparent child, and me, God's own treat-seeking, double-minded daughter

Work with Me, He says sweetly, each day. I've a wonderful project to share!

Oh yes! I respond, fooling myself that time wiht Him is all I desire. But as soon as the real work begins, I'm distracted by the ingredients He chooses. Can I have some of that? I ask, pointing to a particulary delectable blessing. And that? And that? And that? Standing side by side as He works, we're sharing space and time in what should be the most amicable of all possible settings - creating a good thing together. However, the beauty of such closeness - the joy and privilege of being intimately connected to any project set out by my Lord - is not fully evident to my eyes. I'm glazed over. Staring at the bounty before me, I overlook the greater Bounty at my side.

How often does this scenario play itself out? In my home, often daily. In my life, I don't know. But praise my great Parent! He never seems to tire of asking, "Will you join Me?" -- and that gives me plenty of chances to remember to get it right. The ingredients in each of His creations are important, for sure. But time with my Father, the Creator is worth more than them all put together. That's what I hope to seek the next time He asks me to join Him. That's where the real reward lies.

There

the candle breathes

upon a lowly table.

It's light opens, softens

warms the room in which

it sits.

This light, I'm drawn to it

Drawn in it as a new creation:

One softer, warmer, visible only

in the subtle illumintations it brings.

There

the lightbulb shines -

A mechanical thing, for sure.

It's light as well, though:

Brighter, piercing, clean.

It lets nothing hide.

It casts all 'soft' away.

And yet, it is light.

Some prefer that type of light.

To judge would be undoing.

For truly, either of these brights

Will fade, if daylight's wooing.

Vitamin Worship

Worship - I

Perform it in so many ways.

Work is worship - when done right.

Sleep is worship, too.

Tears are worship, in the night

Or shed with thoughts of You.

Song is worship. Dance as well.

Speaking. Silence. Prayer.

Food is worship. I must tell

That worship is my Air!

Vitamin Chris

You could have grown

an angry man

deep within your soul.

He could have grown

an angry you

and filled your heart all full

Of angry words

and angry thoughts

and angry actions, too.

Instead you've grown

into a large

and wiser, better you.

Thank you.

I love you.

-- your wife.

Vitamin Givingthanks

Thanksgiving is coming.

I can hardly wait.
With it, I expect good things.

But really, they'll just be a a continuation in an endless line of good things, all parading past me, to me, through me, from the throne of my Father.

And I do mean through me.

I pray that this Thanksgiving, all those things I so often take for granted - extra space in my house, extra food in my cupboards, extra smiles in my day, the peace of a stable country and home ... and so many more ... would be put to good use blessing others - not just stagnating within my own little sphere. I pray this would be a day, a season, a year, a lifetime, that is equally about GIVING as it is about THANKS. And I pray that each of you may receive a piece of that GIVING as God may ordain it. I love you all ... I miss writing here ... God has it all in His care ... and, because I can ... a preliminary MERRY CHRISTMAS to each of you!

God bless.

Sarah

Vitamin Treasure

It's just a simple child's toy. It beeps, has a little light that flashes, and can be broken into two parts. It's a treasure chest, given to my children by their beloved Aunt Selah, and when someone separates its two parts and hides one of them, the other half will beep at different pitches to tell the seeker how close the hidden treasure may be.

It's just a simple child's toy, but my children adore it. They must have enjoyed playing with it today, because now, after the lights are off and we're all winding down, I hear a persistend BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. - every thirty seconds or so. The chest is hidden somewhere, waiting to be reconnected with its other half. Where is the treasure? It asks repeatedly, as I scurry around putting the finishing touches on this finishing-touch of a day. Where is the treasure?

The strange thing is, the beeping - and the question - really don't bother me this evening. In fact, they seem absolutely appropriate. You see ... we've spent the past several weeks discovering the answer to that very question. Tonight marks our last night in this yellow brick house near the trees, and we've said good-bye to so many people, so many times that our heads are still spinning. We've been inundated with help, love, gifts, and companionship. The endless list of 'to do's' has been completed not just by us, but by a radiant team of individuals, all eager to offer their services. Here are a few of their feats:

Under-sink plumbing in the bathroom ... miraculously fixed by Daniel.

A whole truckload of trash ... hauled off by Damon.

Electrical issues ... solved by Dave.

Children ... watched, fed, loved, hugged, and protected by Melanie.

Ugly yellow bathroom ... spruced up by a mystery guest - was it Katie?

Care-worn kids' bathroom ... polished and preened by Junelle.

Youngest daughter ... outfitted with love by Katie, Melanie, Karen, and Kitti.

Going-away goodies ... lavished upon us by everyone mentioned above, and by Niqi.

Whole days of car/yard/pool help ... offered up cheerfully by Daniel.

Movers ... taken well in hand by Melanie, sometime next week.

Meals ... cooked as if by magic by Katie.

And the list could march on all night! We are overwhelmed with the generosity, the goodness, of these friends who have cherished us over these years. We remember the myriads of things we have shared. Board games. Hand-me-downs. Movie nights, spice drawer notes, song-writing, and swimming. Prayers without number. Lunches at the park, zoo, foothills, mountains, and McDonalds. Road trips. Camping trips, rock climbing adventures, tennis, and long walks. Belly laughts and gut-wrenching sobs.

We've scattered pieces of our hearts so far and wide that it's as futile to try and collect them as to basket all the fallen confetti-leaves of this season. They're everywhere! As I fold our family's socks for the last time in this home, I realize that many of the pairs I'm folding were probably left here by guests and have been assimilated into our supply. This, too, speaks of friendship: Not only have we shared of ourselves with these people - they have enmeshed their personalities into our lives as well.

And we're so grateful! As the echoes of the last prayer, the last well wish, the last shouted "GOOD BYE!" ... the last ... everything ... fade into the silence of this night ... we remember. And the BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. of my children's treasure box asks me again. Where is the treasure? Where could it be?

I smile at the question, because tonight, I already know how to answer. You could ask me a thousand times and my response would still remain. The treasure - our friends - lies buried within my family's hearts. It will remain there always, growing with time as we learn more and more reasons to hold these people dear. Who would have thought, in a place we never fully expected to call home, we'd catch such a beautiful glimpse of how the fellowship in Heaven, our true Home, will feel?

Until then ... until we all come Home ... farewell, dear ones. We love and miss you already. Thank you each and all for sharing your lives, your love, your gifts, and your socks with this blessed family. You are truly, always, our treasure. We love you ... we praise God for you ... and good night.