Intimacy

In-to-me-you-see
My incomplete me
Into my heart you see
Tenderly
And you gaze
And I give
And light touches the rustiness of me
The dustiness
Your golden light
That cleanses me and brings me
To
Intimacy

Me, a curator?

I'm exploring some big words right now: purpose, strengths, hope. My definitions are definitely changing as I dig in a bit deeper and take time to think a bit more. 

It's quite exciting actually. 

So here is the word I researched using the generic online dictionary called Google. 

CURATE

Origin: Middle English: from medieval Latin curatus, from Latin cura ‘care’.

CURATE (VERB)

- select, organize, and look after the items in (a collection or exhibition) 

- select the performers or performances that will feature in (an arts event or programme) 

- select, organize, and present (online content, merchandise, information, etc.), typically using professional or expert knowledge.

But I prefer this definition of the verb which I found on www.oxfordlearnerdictionaries.com

- to select, organize and look after the objects or works of art in a museum or an art gallery, etc.

- to collect, select and present information or items such as pictures, video, music, etc. for people to use or enjoy, using your professional or expert knowledge

Purpose. Strengths. Hope. 

A curator. Looking after the objects and works of art, collecting, selecting and presenting information or items for people to use and enjoy. Using MY professional or expert knowledge. 

Lekker word, curate!

Penguins

Oh dear. I really shouldn't go hunting for penguin pics while trying to work. I've been chuckling through the scrolling. There are some seriously pertinent images out there... let me be real... Don't "bad-mommy" me for these, please!

The feeling I get when I've dropped the kids at school on some days.
OK, I said I was being real!

The kind of feeling I have when approaching a kid to do their homework.
Head down. Madagascar-style. "Cute and cuddly boys!"
Ready to take on the world. Desperate measures. 

What I am tempted to do in the mornings to my daughter - however, she
bears a remarkable resemblance to the deadly polar bear in the mornings.
(By the way, the use of "bear" is intended!)

Some days I don't glide, I just waddle. That's ok.

What just hit me? And who are you? Do I know you?
Why are you looking at me like that?
Those moments of life that catch me by surprise.

Hope you're chuckling too. Happy Tuesday!  Oh wait, it's now Wednesday?!!

Splash

It's been such a busy few weeks. Starting with school hols and prep for a work week-long conference, then the conference itself, then hosting for two weeks while still doing school hols AND a small girl's 11th birthday party, birthday and then school cupcakes. A deep living of life with and then saying goodbye to a very dear friend. Celebrating and mourning the birthday of a young man who was, but now is (whole) in eternity. Followed by another four days of hosting and touring CT. Pack in site visits up north, glimpses of wild flowers dotting the West Coast, heartbreaking and heartwarming stories and several newsletters, a star-studded new website, minutes, salty moments of resourcing and attempting to learn a clicky language. Oh, and teacher meetings to resolve unpleasantness at school and reconstituting a geog book for the THIRD time this year. And two books to edit: one on a life in farming and the other on surviving a war of the nastiest kind.

Today is the first day to sit down at my screen and contemplate for over a month. To offer back, in silence, the many God-moments and connections of the past 6 weeks.) And yes, I should have typed in "six". It's better English.)

I am, frankly, really tired. Bone weary. A bit sniffy as I fight off the cold that is trying to sneak around my defences.

I am also more in love with my man who has unselfishly and at really great personal cost (he'd deny this) unwaveringly supported me by helping with kids, meals, ensuring our family and life is running mostly smoothly while I jet around the Western Cape and keep balls in the air. Golden balls, with hope written on them, but still juggling.

God, I am holding this space for you. Today. This pause, this contemplation, this moment suspended in air as I have launched into the air of today but have not yet splashed down into the seas of life and my city and my nation and my work.

Let your love fill me. May I be held by grace.

Splash.