Glimpses of Beauty.

I was driving back to school in the early morning dark, and rain and wind were whipping around my car. As I rounded a corner on an old country road past a rambling white farmhouse, I glanced into the windows, brightly lit, spilling golden warmth into the darkness. An elderly couple was sitting at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee. I only saw them for a second, but that moment stayed with me. I felt like I had witnessed the “unsought beauty” that Lewis wrote about in his early poetry. How beautiful to see enduring relationships, shared over an early cup of coffee on a rainy winter morning.

The Thanksgiving Holidays.

Younger times.

When I was in high school my family drove to my grandparent's home in Michigan to spend the Thanksgiving holidays. We'd stay in the guest cottage next door, mom and dad in the bedroom, and my brothers and I in sleeping bags in the living room.

It usually snowed that weekend and the day after Thanksgiving we drove to a little ranch nestled in trees and went on a sleigh ride. The horses were big and black and strung with red jingle bells. We slid through forest as the sun set and sang Christmas carols as the shadows turned the snow blue gray.

And my aunt welcomed us back with turkey noodle soup and hot apple cider.

And there was always pie and late night card games, and laughter.

Home again, Home again, jiggety jig.

A few weeks ago in October, I went home and carved pumpkins.

(mine's the one on the right with the bow tie)

Some good friends and I carved them in the park on a Sunday afternoon.

I'm going home again this weekend, and I can't wait.

My mom tells me she has apples to make applesauce and a new movie to watch together.

And one of my brothers is coming home.

and I'll probably bake a little.

muffins or a cake

or something.

Life is busy, but I'm keeping up

and making time for more than busy.

I'm ready for a break.

T is for Time.

Lately, I've been busy, so busy I have to map out my days in the morning so that every minute will count towards something.
It's exhausting.
A few weeks ago, after fall break, a speaker came to chapel and told us that ever since the invention of the clock, people have been ruled by time, by the steady motion of the clock, ticking away minutes, seconds. Some cultures ignore the steady movement of time and choose to live beyond the constraints of tightly blocked out days. Lunch may stretch into a couple hours or an afternoon coffee date may turn into dinner. Time passes, but it is not recorded.
Lately I've found myself longing for freedom from schedules. I don't want to live ruled by time. I want to live within time. But is this possible in such a fast paced country? Is it practical?
I don't wish to ignore time, for I want to use time wisely. But I don't want to rush through life, trying to keep up with the clock, either.
Balance. It's difficult to live within time rather than under it's steady hand.
In The Tempest, Prospero says,
“we are such stuff / As dreams are made on, and our little life / Is rounded with a sleep”
Prospero comprehends man’s mortality, that man’s life is as delicate as a dream, condensing the hours into seconds until life fades into an eternal sleep  
He also understands the concept of time, and is able to act wisely and influentially within the little life he is given, acting with grace and mercy towards those around him.
I so desperately long to learn to live within time, using it wisely as Prospero did, and as Jesus did on his time on earth. But right now, I feel ruled by time. Perhaps someday I will learn.