the wailin jennys - deeper well - live Thunder Bay Canada July 12, 2010

Last night I was greatly priveleged to see the Jenny's at the Mauch Chunk Opera House in Jim Thorpe, PA. My dear friend and I were beyond blessed by their titilating harmonies and sweet, soulful melodies. They performed this Emylou Harris song last night and I've wondered how often my heart thuds with this intensity for long gulps at that Deeper Well.

Much has transpired these days, and the Lord has been at work; I hope to share some more highlights soon. Enjoy.

tour de france

I was introduced to the Tour de France a couple of year's back, and each year my love for this competition grows. There are three weeks of grueling stages to the tour, wherein the brutes begin in Monaco and then climb the Pyrenees and the Alps, and sprint their way into Paris to conclude. The terrain is enough to get me hooked, but the strategy and perseverance involved in these men's lives is just astounding. The men cover 2,241 miles in three weeks, and these weeks happen to be in incredibly stifling July heat. Today was the time trials, and tomorrow is the last day of the tour.


I've been inspired by these men, and so yesterday I decided to hop on my stylin 1970(ish) Nishiki road bike for a ride. I really enjoy biking, but I am not good, it was really hot, and my admiration grew. I had a lovely little adventure though, and had some great little stops. The gal at the check out at the general store down the road has decided to backpack in New Zealand, and so I handed her off my lonely planet guide. After I'd shared how safe and great it was, she booked a trip. I was surprised and decided I needed to share some "must-sees"...

I rode past the "Forget me Not" guest house, raw milk farm, and other old PA stone structures. I ended where my friend and her kids were swimming and appreciated the dip. The way home was lovely and I spied my dream little cottage that I'd love to render and deck with charm. I huffed up the hill home and entered the house as the thunder started.

Today I had my last day of work at the Glasbern, and while a little unplanned, I am quite glad to be done. I head to the grandparents Monday for peach preserving and quality time, and then to Boston thereafter for time with my bro. I am entering this new season sooner than anticipated, and look ahead curiously, wondering what good might be uncovered down south. The Saw Palmetto and other prickly plants will have to hold my attention for a little while... Thanks for traveling along!

Last night I dreamed some strange scenes. I awoke startled, and looked at my phone for the time. My friend Angie texted me (the main character of my dream), and notified me that she was engaged. Angela will be marrying Zach on November 27. I am confident that their union will collectively influence this world more than many hoardes of people, and for this reason (and many others) I rejoice. Their individual commitment and passion for the Lord is noteworthy, and I just can't imagine how gloriously well they will spur and propell one another. Best wishes dear friend. I don't have an "Ang and Zach" picture, so I will put an "Ang and Nell" one instead :)

beets

My friend is home from California, and tomorrow we commence in our canning of beets. Tonight I picked the most robust and will showcase them for you all. We have had the driest of summer's for PA, and so much so that the farmer's claimed defeat at the 4th of July. It has been dry, but at just the right time, we've received ample rain. The first rainfall was an inch and a half, and the other day we had close to four inches. The grass is green again and the garden is beeming. The beauty of Creation is overwhelming, and I ask you all, is it frustrating that you cannot capture and ingest a sunset or cloud scape? The moments flea, as rapturous as they may be, and how does one recall or properly praise Him for them? Also, how are sinful, foolish attitudes able to rule my heart in light of such immensity and grace? I cannot answer, and so I spend a good portion of my days arranging artful soliloquys in my mind that rarely make it out, and this week I've been smiling at Psalm 65.

Last year I meditated on Psalm 65 in a cafe with cobalt walls in Mammoth Lakes, California. The previous night we'd scaled the far end of Yosemite in a snowstorm and heavy fog, and this morning we crawled over mountain passes that made my little car moan. The verses "who establishes the mountains by His strength, being girded with might" resounded in my mind all the day. The mountains were craggy and severe, and for some hours I lost myself imagining I was in northern Afghanistan where the people live scattered at 17,000 feet. I envisioned the Hazara people in their huts cooking on smoky dung patties, discovering anew that a loving God had etched those foreboding peeks with His fingers. What joy would overwhelm such a soul. It overwhelmed mine, and I stared, lost in hope for those people.

The verse "You visit the earth and cause it to overflow; You greatly enrich it" (Ps. 65:9) came to mind with the rain this week, and it happened to be the Psalm on my yearly reading chart. "...The stream of God is full of water; you prepare their grain, for thus you prepare the earth. You water its furrows abundantly, you settle its ridges, you soften it with showers, You bless its growth. You have crowned the year with your bounty, and Your paths drip with fatness. The pastures of the wilderness drip, and the hills gird themselves with rejoicing. The meadows are clothed with flocks and the valleys are covered with grain; they shout for joy, yes, they sing." (10-13).

Here's one to any Montana friends that might view this blog ... A week or so ago I spied a name in the reservation computer at work that was entirely unique, and seemed to only possibly be connected to one [set] of person(s). This morning at work I greeted a couple by the name of Rocky and Joyelle Funk! Unfortunately for them they spent their honeymoon in the company of someone that knew them, but fortunately for myself, (and the rest of the crowd in the dining room,) the love of God was spread abroad in the hearts and minds of those present.

It was recently remarked that weddings and babies are consistently new to us, and regardless of their being present through the ages, they are ever fresh and wonderful. This young couple possessed a unique glow as they bowed this morning, and I believe the older folks present were actually taking note of some very distinct qualities radiant in them. My heart smiled deeply this day, and I took to prayer for the marriages in my life, and that they might not be weary or faint in their covenant, but resolved and strengthened in that harbor prepared as a refuge for their love.

A Song of the Road

I lift my cap to Beauty,
I lift my cap to Love;
I bow before my Duty,
and know that God's above!
My heart through shining arches
of leaf and blossom goes;
my soul, triumphant, marches
through life to life's repose.
And I, through all this glory,
Nor know, nor fear my fate--
the great things are so simple,
the simple are so great!
-Fred G. Bowles

I began my morning in the rocking chair on the porch with coffee and 2 Samuel. I've been struck by David's life these days, and the depth of integrity the man possessed when he walked in intimacy with the Lord. His heart stood in awe of His words (Ps. 119:161), was tremendously blessed and gifted of God, and yet in the height of it all, was lead astray.

I finished my reading and headed out back to inspect the plants. The clouds were spread like cheesecloth, and draped the antique sky with vapor doilies and deep inlets of the truest blues. My eyes assessed our current delight: the blueberry bushes. So many analogies have been forming as I pick those little gems. One bush dwarfs the others and is full of rich clusters, while the others long branches drape and complain with their slow ripening, and sparse specimens. Proper pruning was lacking on our part, and the result is the slack harvest of the present. My mind skips back to David, and the evening upon his roof when it was the time when kings go out to battle, and he instead was home.

The nature of summer causes a tossing of previous rigors, and invites a beautiful repose of gaiety and joy. Warm breezes whisper of darker months and train the heart to praise for this faithful change. Longer days call us outside, barefoot, bronzed and beaming. But, as mentioned above, they can lead us out onto the roof when we are to be at battle. I read an excerpt on Sunday that penetrated me so deeply it was as if I'd been entirely unfeeling for the past weeks. Complacency had convinced me it was the peace of God.

Our danger is this, and not merely for the gross sins, but for the more deceptive one's, wherein we drain our vitality and zeal for the friendship and impotent promises of the world. We sow seeds in dissolving soil, and allow our garden to erode. God's grace is amazing, and thankfully His faithful hand will prune and pare us back to reach that great harvest of righteousness. Listen to Him friends, and tuck yourself back in to the single-minded first love He so desires and deserves from us.


I finished the day picking black raspberries and driving past waving soybeans, and the silver backs of leaves. My dear friend handed me a note at our departure, and its contents depicted that perfect tension of enjoyment that comes from a disciplined heart of love. On beauty:

"Your eyes will see the King in His beauty. They will behold a far distant land." Isaiah 33:17. "Beauty is God's handwriting." -Charles Kingsley. "In every man's heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty." -Christopher Morley.