Dear God, Thank you for the Rain. Can we have a little dry weather now? I still want to see the London Rains. amen

A hymn---

Immortal, invisible, God only wise, In light inaccessible hid from our eyes, Most blessed, most glorious, the Ancient of Days, Almighty, victorious, Thy great name we praise. Unresting, unhasting, and silent as light, Nor wanting nor wasting, Thou rulest in might; Thy justice like mountains high soaring above Thy clouds which are fountains of goodness and love. Great Father of glory, pure Father of light, Thine angels adore Thee, all veiling their sight; All praise we would render: O help us to see 'Tis only the splendour of light hideth Thee.

PSI,SCY Pi, etc

Yesterday was a busy day in the sky. 2 or 3 pair of glasses, birds of different types and excaliber was facing the wrong way, to me. I just had to drink it all in, in my groggy morning fog. I tried to process it and memorize, but Helen always says that these things will come clear when you get to them. So, I just enjoyed the jottings that were clear.

I always think that excaliber is stuck in the bottom of the ocean and a symbol of the fiery sword that was turned to and fro, "keeping the way". It has to be down, was my anticipation of the ending of the story that the angel was engaging me in, but now I don't know. He loves to show me how tennis moves compare to his longstanding motions and diligence before he lost it. I couldn't really see him, yesterday, so maybe this is the part that he let it go and it was flying.

The evening sky was looking like the burning garbage that we saw.

IT is no coincidence that Kaius is pulling hair.

He pulls out hair from each of his friends and it is so significant to me, when I look in his hands and see hair in his fingers. He looks me in my eyes, as though I should already have known this. I keep doing things and telling him that it is not nice, but it is the one thing that he does that I don't catch him until it is already done.

The first handful of hair was exactly the spot in the head where my Evie had a bald spot from her bandana. I prayed for Ev and for the other children, even though there was no bald spot where Kaius pulled. This must stop! He is lessening his aggressive behavior, but I am praying for the grace and mercy to see his sneaky behavior and redirect it. I see the parallel to my own holding onto wrong things and it is convicting.

Yesterday's sky had a very clear Z

I said, do you think that the planes made that Z, Ben? He said there is no way the planes could make lines that wide. I am glad he confirmed that to me, because I would have thought somebody had to make that in the sky. Somebody did and somebody is watching the sky and it's me, watching. God is writing! I have seen pi's in the sky very often, but never a Z...Go figure! Z day comes after Y day, as I had thought before. Why, Oh why is this or that thing happening. The Alleluia angel left me on Y Friday a while back. He seemed to send the Z to remind me of what happens when God answers the Y's with a Z.

At the praise camp that I have been at for years and years for praise tutoring, they taught me that we are not to ask why. I was on Alleluia Blvd walking with the crew of them and my answer was always Y. Their answer, reflexively was Alleluia, even that made me ask why. I was really afraid that they never would come back and I was destined to stay in the Y's forever. It took a while, but they came back for me, but they had to let me stew in my y's for a while, before they could show me the Z's.

Watching the angels watch and guide my babies.

It is an amazing providence to get to observe the supernatural navigation of infants. I know the Lord and I have seen Him guide and protect a great many little children throughout my life.

These very prayed for children's angels are almost visible to me. Perhaps because of age and aging in the Lord. Perhaps because of the different relationship between me and the children. They are not my children or family and still I am taking part in their care. The things that we accept in our child rearings are or become set in stone in our family traditions. When they are very little, their angels behold the face of God and are bent toward obedience to God. It is amazing to see this in their behavior.

I believe that they are depraved, but their spiritual directors are in the face of God. The more prayer that is involved in their birth and rearing, the more visible is the spiritual battle that they are engaged in. While they sleep, they shake their heads and their dreams are nearly audible, while you are watching them.

Our rearing is whittling handles for God to hold and direct them. God is able to use our example to engage their emotions toward good, much before they are even able to mentally ascent to doctrines and truths. I see the angels preparing the children to let me go, daily and whenever our relationship will end. God is God and not Ms. Jayne. You know that don't you. They say yes to that, while they are sleeping. She's not always going to be with you. God loves you more than anyone in the world. More than mommy and daddy, more than Ms. Janet or anyone else; God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life. They wrestle and wriggle with the truths that are coming clear in their young minds.

We are uncovering and setting up the basic foundations where future truths will hang. When the light of truth comes on in their eyes, you certainly don't want to see it covered up or squashed.

Self will and self defense in the public arena is different than the defense of truth and rightness. Some few of them are won by the angels in God's face and they are bent on defending truth and right. They never do it the right way. They often look just the same as the darkling child who hits for vicious, malicious comfort. But there is a difference. Prayer and discernment needs to be engaged in their rearing. Is this wrongdoing a defense of right that has been engaged in before the time, or is this wrongdoing a hellish expression of a lost soul? There is a difference. Nana's prayers help her to see a little deeper into the spiritual condition of the child.

They are being buffeted by the principalities of the families that are part of their social engagement. Some allow their children to act out until the Holy Spirit arrests them into God's control. What a loss to leave them to themselves until they come to intellectual ascent to submission to God's control. They miss walking with God and hearing from Him in their dreams as infants. As I see the angel's engage these children, I see the job more clearly. We are either facilitators of their walk with God or hinderances. Help us, Lord to be facilitators in the process. Amen.

Are they fighting for attention? Pulling hair and pinching, etc.

The babies are going through another season of fighting. I thought we had gone through this already. Kara found her bite and bit her best friend on the finger.{it didn't help that friend stuck her finger in her mouth} Those girls...{exasperation!} I took Kara's shoes off as if to say, "you are going to nap time early!" She cried for a moment and then Kaius, who was also in time out, grabbed her hair and pulled a big chunk out. Oh dear, more than exasperated. It was exactly the same spot that my dear baby girl had lost her hair. I was simply outdone, now it was really nap time,but not for Kara, she got a dance moment for her pain. Even though she didn't really cry about it. I was almost crying. Will they ever stop bumping into each other? There is some relationship between pulling hair and love, I think. This doesn't happen everyday...Go figure? Bubbles calmed them down some...

For some reason, they just love hurting my Joshy...

Yesterday, it was Kaius' turn to pull Josh's hair. He was standing up on the crib and Kaius was trying to move him from there. I caught the hand out of his hair. Josh was holding on and keeping his stand, but crying to high heaven. I put Kaius in time out and comforted the baby. He stopped his crying after a good bit and started talking at Kaius and I had to laugh. He was rebuking his friend and letting him know that he would not get out until the bell rang. He had gotten the raw end of the deal in pain, but he knew that justice was going to make his friend pay for the pain he had endured and this had stopped his crying, even at 9 months old. How can we show them that through out life? Bless these youngsters to know You early, Lord, Amen.

Mother and Child ?

It was a delightful night that I dreamed Beulah Bondi came dancing into my room.

It has been a month since she and her friends came in rejoicing. She was helping me to see the importance of playground safety rules. I took the class and I was grateful that in our many trips to the park, we had never had a sad occurrence in the playground.

In my sleep, or in my prayerful musings; as I was thanking God for coming from a very playground safety oriented family that she came in. She introduced me to the other women who participated in bringing safety to the foreground of preschool care. We danced around rejoicing that this enemy of our children's life and health is being tackled courageously, by mommies and caretakers. God grant us victory tackling the other enemies to truth and life. In Jesus' Name, Amen.

Little Jaynee was longing for the sense of security that her city towers gave her.

This was foreign for the child, here in the country where her aunties had brought her. There was so much grass and trees. Rarely did they visit the city where there were some taller buildings, though not like the big city that she was used to.

She cried and longed for the Grandfather's penthouse view. The sense of calm that she got when her hand was in his as their feet hit the pavement to take the 15 block swift walk to school and the buildings that briskly passed them on their traverse. "Auntie, I see Grandfather's building, can I run and stand next to it and find the Grandfather there?" "You are talking like a silly-willy, stop the whining." was Auntie's response. "How can the Grandfather be at that building? You will see him again a long time from now, when you get to heaven." The time was on her mind and she had to get to her appointment.

Little Jayne couldn't be consoled, when Auntie spoke of Heaven. "I don't want to go to Heaven, if it took my precious Grandfather. It is a mean place." Between the sobs, Auntie was dragging her to the building to stand next to it. Does this make you feel better?, she begged. Thank you, Auntie. Do you remember the Penthouse building and the way my Grandfather held my hand on the way to preschool?

You are 5 now and Grandfather is long gone. We have to get through this and God is above. Find your comfort here for a minute, but please stop looking for Grandfather, it makes me cry.

She stood there waving up at the building. "Bye, Grandfather", she called out from behind her tears," I know that I will see you again." A smile came to her face and all seemed well to her, there. Auntie felt guilty that she almost denied the child this small comfort.

Thoughts on my neglect of my children...

Don't mother's always do this? It is a part of our sinful condition to cast blame on ourselves for everything. I take the moment of sickness in the daycare of my babies to look at my continual introspection and retrospection..."I could have kept them from this sickness, somehow?" Where is that sick and sore and vile substance that hurt my baby? I am looking for it...

Providentially, the baby girl calls with a laughable parallel. Heaven was laughing with us. I couldn't read it as we were going, I just saw CS and JRR laughing at me trying to figure out the unfigurable in LOR. Baby said, "Mommy, I took my first book out of the library." My mind was racing to defend myself. Doesn't she remember the Spot books and the enormous amount of time we spent at the library? I didn't dare let my mouth defend my one clear conscience spot of my mothering. What did you take out? I garbled in my shame. "The Screwtape Letters", was her excited response. I saw Heaven's humor at this irony. Mommy reader and daughter reader had met in the middle. I was learning to watch a movie of an unread book, which I try never to do and had chalked up to something I would learn to do in eternity. I was surpassing my confessed and accepted limitation to try to digest the Tolkien, Lewis heady style that I had poo-pooed away from myself and so was she.

To prevent my sickness and hers, I would take more time correcting her handwriting, which I think is a sensory disfunction, that needs to be corrected. I would make her read to me more, whatever the subject and whatever that means. I think the two are related; the reading deficiency and the writing malfunction. I would take the dirty blocks out of her mouth and keep her from the sicknesses. I much prefer God's way. He lets them explore and get sick and get better and holds mommy's hand while she cries. He understands our pain on both sides and our need to defend our decisions and our shame at our clear errors. They are ever before us and that is why we have a Savior to heal our, ever heaping shame. That is Elyven.

Today I saw

a bowing and worshiping woman and a bowing black panther. in the clouds, of course.

yesterday we saw

a cloud turtle, followed by a snail... It was right over the giant's left shoulder.

This trip to the University had more in store than goodbyes to the babygirl.

To boil the sights and sounds down... to the south was the trumpeter angel, who seemed perturbed about something. Before he flew in, there was a telescope south and a microscope and friends holding them to the west. I am meditating on the fact that God would lend us friendships with one another in these days and purpose and hope to a generation so undeserving.

"definitely the peephole lies somewhere between undeserved and inconsequential"

It was Helen, up to her usual antics showing how talking and hearing people can miss the signposts toward eternity for their busy-ness...

When I looked up

in the sky for the Perseid shower, I saw clouds... I saw a fish shaped cloud on the left and the bones of the fish on the right. the star was at the nose of the fish...

Here's your hat, Where are your socks?

I see the angels working and laboring in the area of protecting and directing little children in their infancy and growth. As I work together with them, I find that my deep-seeded pains are pulled and rooted and dealt with, as I give myself to something other than self.

A game that we started together was sock play with the children. They would eat the socks off their feet and one day in March, I came in and we started to play with the socks as balls. Where are your socks? and we chased them and we played rolling the socks and giggled and found infant delight playing ball with the socks. Karadyn, who was the oldest of the group always reminds me of that game when she takes off her socks. Yesterday, this many months after our first time playing that game, Kara took her socks and started an older version of the same game and the two of us were giggling, like teenagers. She is 1 and I am 53 and we are not even close to teenagers. She took her sock and kept teasing me with it and I kept pretending to try to take it.

I remember Ruth in this conversation, who was my most difficult relationship. When baby Ben had died, she said to me "Where's your faith, Jayne?" I keep hearing her and knowing that this question is exactly what that trial was about. She was the only one brave enough to ask me that. She wasn't impressed by my sore and sour attitude in the trial. She hadn't had that experience, but she knew that Christians are supposed to look for where God is, in their sufferings. It is not a game, but it is a truth that God is hiding a part of His presence behind that dark cloud of upsetment. He doesn't seem to be there, in the darkness, but He most certainly is there. Looking back, He asks, was I there with you, in the darkness? And it does seem like a game, one day in the future, when you see what you thought God was doing and you see what God was actually doing. God was drawing you closer to Himself. You could only see the tears.

I see that in Kara's game. I see that in the delightful game we created with each other. Where's your sock? That is my sock. No, it's your sock. We laugh about that, but I still can't laugh about my baby, but I know that he is with God and one day, I will know that Ruth's question was what that trial was all about. Where is your faith? I am still searching where my faith is on that issue. The angels and the babies are looking with me for it.

"Now we see through a glass darkly..."

Whenever I see that beautiful cinematography that was part of the beginning of "the Miracle Worker"movie, years and years ago, I think of that verse in the Bible.

Now we see through a glass darkly...1 Corinthians 13:12

How many questions the story of Helen Keller evokes? Why would God allow suffering? How could a human mind overcome those huge impediments? What love that a mother has to search the world for the right instruction for her child?

God loves us, His Church more! More than Mother Keller, more than Annie Sullivan, more than America loved Helen, God loves His Church. He is guiding us and teaching us and holding us and cleaning us up.

That Is Not Fiction!

My seeing Helen everywhere I go is.

Yesterday, the starlings came to check up on me.

They were flying high above, on our way to work.

Don't you want to hear how we swooped over "Pearly Cow's" ears this morning. I said, another time, but I am much obliged at your care and staying in touch. They said they could not forget our season of conversations. People hardly get their jokes, they said.

I said the jokes are over my head, but I try to understand them anyway. We laughed all the way to work at that one...

Kary-Anne's Harpsong

6 year old Kary-Anne was a prodigy. She and her harp were inseparable. Daily, her waking hours were spent in the enjoyment and delight of practice and learning new music. This was the renaissance of Pompeii. She was among many, many young talented people who spent their hours fully attached to their instruments while their parents worked and developed culture around them.

I never saw a mighty man in any movie like the one I saw in the clouds the other day.

Whoever has cloud duty knows exactly where to put the things that they want me to see. I am not going to see the whole sky. I have sky-phobia, sometimes. New Yorkers are not used to seeing so much of the sky. I avoid looking too much at the huge sky that they have here in NC. They must have taken stock in the sky in early pilgrim days. New York has a little piece of sky and it seems our desire to paint skylines everywhere. Anything to block the sky from coming too close. We push it away and I have to resist my natural desire not to look. It is beautiful down here, though.

I thought of our great savior, who is stronger than the strong man and mighty to deliver and save, all who come to God through Him. I always think Uncle Charles is telling me that. It wasn't his style, though. He usually has sublime messages for me.

I have truly missed the laps that the cows used to do...

So often, on the way home, I would see the bull playing hide and go seek with the cows in the pasture. It was adorable to see that huge animal, look over to me and tell me not to tell the cows where he was.

The bull would be standing next to a narrow tree, with most of his body sticking out on both sides and quietly waiting for them to find him. They were giggling and moving in his direction to pretend that they didn't see him. I guess that is their little secret!

The Squirrels said the bluejays are not the only animals who find interest in tennis...

Usually, it is Ms. Bluejay, coaching me from the rafters, when she sees me with my children. Now, my times with my children are few and far between, at the courts, at least. She was around, but silent in her criticisms of my lack of motivation and lack of clarity to create the passion for flight in my children.

In years past, she would stand right over my shoulder and shout about what I wasn't including of my motivation for the motions of continuous wing motions that we share in common. Bluejays realize the relationship between flight and the swinging of the arms in tennis. They say that teaching your children to play that sport is as close to being a bird and tossing them from the nest that there could be. Especially the service motion is pecked at by her, whenever I see her. If you could do that motion 100times fast, you might be hovering over the ground. She loves it. She giggles on the fence thinking that I am trying to fly and teach my children to fly.

Now that my childrearing is at the end, we find fewer meetings to giggle about our commonality. This Saturday was such a moment. I drug Ez onto the courts from the swings for 15 or 20 minutes of "sharing" on the court. Shame that what used to be insistent and intense instruction and coaching has condescended to "parental sharing". I love what age does to relationships. The elder children know me in the intensity of my "overhead" They know the "better duck!" look on my face, when the drool to knock the hair off the ball comes into my eyes. Not Ez, he knows tennis as a peaceful time of secret abilities that he is not yet really privy to how the ball and the racket come together to form a rally. What is a rally? Mrs. Bluejay turns her back, she can't look at such a travesty.

Well anyway, the squirrels said they had found their commonality with the sport in the aim that I take on my serve. They said it is like when they choose a branch on the heights to jump to. They were aiming above me and a mommy was showing her little ones the joys of jumping from tree to tree. Sometimes hitting the branch you aimed for and sometimes falling to a lower branch. It was fun to see them enjoying the same interaction I was having with my little squirrel.

A Beacon in the Night and a Beacon in NY, I think they are the same thing, sometimes. Light us with Your Truth, Lord. I miss my dark and wonderful city!

Precocious or a rabble rousing Cow?

There we were traveling along a country road. Cattle on a thousand hills were here and there. I was gawking at the splendor so much that when a bunch of starlings darted out in front of the car, it startled me. It didn't startle my husband driving. Had it been me, I would've swerved. I had to turn and see who did that. I saw a giggling and running lone cow running from the scene of the crime. I laughed with her, that she had gotten those starling's back for the many times that they had startled her. She was leaping like a deer and glad that she had gotten the last laugh, that great Sunday Morning. I call her "Yitzahka". Don't you know it's Sunday Yitzahka?

L-M-N-O-P.....Where's XI? what if we missed it flying through the alphabet?

There is definitely a hole in our brains on the way to PI. It is Xi. It is the hole in our brains on the way to PI. Why? Have you ever wondered why we rush through those letters like we do? It is pi day. Stop moving forward and go back to Xi and look up!!!

The compassion of the creation around me? Flying and Mooing in favor and compassion?

They seem aware, especially the cows...

I don't know how they know the sadness of heart that comes yearly. They are always on the guard with real maternal sympathies. They said, try jogging, last week. The whole crew of them, said look what we do after breakfast, you know this is your sad season...

Then, yesterday they showed me that they were praying for me at their morning devotional. I said thank you to them.

The blackbirds in the other neighborhood showed me their morning regimen and reminded me about Obie and his siblings who were a comfort. They said this is how we deal with our pains we watch out for other people's children, too. It doesn't hurt so bad when you are overseeing the little ones around you and God's hand of comfort is always attending the future, more than the past. I said Thank you for showing me that.

Myrtle Beach

The Amen for the sunrise service with the seagulls was spectacular. We tried for 3 days to get to sunrise service and we were thwarted one way or another each day until the Sunday service.

Ev said the seagulls are wondering why people even come to the beach after the amen of sunrise prayer. She really could have come with us to see the Amen. The whole flock sat on the beach and watched as we watched for the sun. No one budged, but us as we tried to find the right spot to spectate. The sand was cold and the sound of the waves flapping was the only sound that we could hear. None of them made a peep as God was obviously the center of their attention. God called them to order as He does everyday. Sunrise is their daysong.

Clouds were spotting here and there and I wondered if they would delay the sight. They didn't and all of a sudden the sacred hush was punctured by a flash of slivered light, pink and yellow and then the flapping of all of the wings at once. It was 'as if' some one had said go. We call it the AMEN. They flew up in the air all of them and danced around eachother, clearly grateful that they had lived through the night to see another day. Isn't God good!

That was their Amen!

A visit to Buzzard Rock!

Ewe Sing, We Sing!

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd,

I'll not want,

He makes me down to lie...

In pastures green,

He leadeth me,

the peaceful waters by.

Helen walked me through the beautiful wing pattern into a very dark place, this morning.

You need to see this she said. We were right in the middle of meeting of the devil and many demons. How do we get their eyes off of the beauty of the Creator, they were plotting. We must put many barracades in front of them that they wouldn't see the awesomeness of the ways of God. Devices and more devices, put them in front of them so that they won't even think about anything, muchless awe at the beauty of God's hands exposed all around us. We cried together all the way back to my bedroom...