The Awakening

I wrote this a while ago, during a very long plane ride, but felt like it was fitting to post now:

"On a 14-hour plane ride where one cannot sleep much, there is an abundance of time to simply sit (well, you have nowhere else to go!) and meditate. It's one of my favorite things to do. I love just thinking about anything and everything, and dreaming about life. I decided to fill my ears with some cello sonatas: sure to be conducive to some "deeper" thinking. Most people don't know the lifelong dream I've had to learn the cello. There's something about it that absolutely connects my heart to the eternal, something that stirs the deep waters of my soul. Follow my train of thought for a moment: cello dreams reminded me of a poem I composed for a poetry class I took a couple of years ago. It was full of flowery and musical words and imagery describing how cello music affects me. Then that led me to think of writing in general. I have a blog that has been sitting untouched for quite some time. I was reminded of how enjoyable I find writing and how crafting words into something beautiful is a joy. So this is another attempt, another stab at reviving the writer within me. I know that writing is something that I want to be cultivating and growing in, so I want to try and set aside some time each week to write - something, anything! It doesn't have to be long. I just know that I want to grow in the gifts that God has given me and be a good steward of them." 

The poem I wrote is applicable to this theme of "reviving the writer within me," so I thought I would share:

The Awakening

Warm tones    that woo the soul

Rise from the rifts    of the rejected cello

Now caressed    with new hands.

Riveting strains    resound when released

From the strings stretched    over a shell:

An ode to joy    and all its oddities—

Of beauty found    in the broken and battered.

The carved wood    of the cello rejoices

As the bow graces    its strings again.

Here's to being inspired to write again! :)

Sing winter

The snow is silently sprinkling outside my window. It's a Sunday afternoon. Silent, save for the occasional car that passes by on the street below. My soul is rested and satisfied. The beauty of winter surrounds me: millions of perfectly tiny, unique snowflakes are falling and resting on streets, sidewalks, steps, and shrubs. The below-zero air is crisp and nippy, but it's warm in here.

There's something really special about winter. If you're not a winter-sports or snow kind of person, you're probably grumbling about having to shovel your driveway, scrape off your windshield, or driving visually impaired. If it's not any of those, it's the cold itself. You're probably dreaming about being able to wear flip flops and tank tops again, or a perfect sandy beach on a deserted island in the middle of Pacific.
Not me! I am loving every moment of it. Well, okay, I'm not gonna lie - there are times when I can't feel my feet and when the cold goes through my bones that I could really go for some time on the beach in Kona, buuuuut for the most part, I am loving it (especially when I am all warm and bundled up!). For someone that has grown up in a desert her whole life and who has never experienced anything below 10C to her remembrance, winter is kind of a big deal!

It's bringing out the inner child in me; wonder and awe are being awakened in my heart. I run over and peek out my window when I wake up to the sound of someone shoveling snow outside. It makes me want to jump up and down and dash outside so I can play in it or catch snowflakes on my tongue. It's deeper than that, though. It's like God is romancing my heart in a new way. He's showing me other aspects of the beauty of His character as He unveils sides of His creativity through winter that I've never seen before.
The desert is one of the most peaceful places I've ever been in, but a silent, snow-covered forest is pretty comparable. There's so much beauty in winter that is often overlooked. I love the sound of packed snow crunching under my feet, the sight of the branches clothed in white, and the peace that accompanies the falling flakes. I love that there's still life and beauty during a season where everything is supposed to be "dead". You see, He makes dead things come alive. That's who my God is.

May your heart be reawakened to the beauty of winter.
May you learn to marvel at the small things in life.
May you experience joy in ways you have never before.

Frozen in time: a perfect snowflake caught in my hair