the first day of fall

"What I mean by the first day of fall is that day when you suddenly understand with your whole body that the season has changed.  When the air feels snappier against your skin and the sky's blueness turns wistful, and the humming of insects shifts pitch, and you just know like you know your own name that summer is over."(Marisa de los Santos in Belong To Me) 

how is it possible

that the first day of fall

has come and gone?

I find myself

clinging to the hope

that fall will linger 

that sunlight

will still find leaves on trees

to bath in 

glistening gold

i catch myself

calling "noooooo"

to the wind

as I watch leaves whirling 

tumbling

lifting into the air

and away

leaving trees

a little 

less 

clothed

every day.

words and images (unless otherwise cited) © copyright Melody Armstrong 2016

spilling with delight

there are days

i am especially aware

and spilling with delight

days i can barely get enough

of the beauty

and all the joyful taking in

beauty

to inhale

to strain my ears towards

to gaze at

to lose myself in

and oh....those 

moments of simplicity

and dailiness 

 - tiny hints of heaven -

to celebrate

with a dear friend

or truest love

those unencumbered moments

when joy springs fresh

teasing me into the chase

to capture 

with heart and soul 

and even sometimes 

with a lens

my heart is spilling with delight.

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2016

a difficult "yes"

You asked 

something important of me

and I said "yes"

not a thunderous kind of yes

that throws open doors

and reverberates through hallways

but a single

fragile

feather-kind of yes

one with almost no weight 

of confidence

at all

the kind of yes 

that might require some shelter

to keep it from wisping away

with my heavy exhales

i can only trust 

that even in its frailty

You hear it 

that it counts

somehow

it is mystery to me

that You are able 

to take one delicate yes

upon    another

upon           another

and create 

something warm enough

to cover me 

during the cold

winter

drift

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2016

life in transition

transitions

almost

imperceptible 

at times

a quiet whisper of change

  a slight shift of balance

a subtle transforming moment

when one thing nudges up against another

becoming new in the process

it can be a touch 

so gentle in passing 

that unless intentionally regarded

it slips away

unnoticed 

but sometimes 

like a growing, rushing wave

that meets the shore

with life altering force

transitions come

unexpected, untamed, unimagined

leaving us reshaped

unfamiliar

even to ourselves 

all that was buried

beneath layers of busyness

or soul distraction

or forward momentum

surfaces

everything is visible

uncontained

uncensored

just laying bare upon the surface 

of this life we've been building together.

It's a lovely sort of chaos

like modern art

hard to understand

but possibly beautiful.

words and images © copyright melody armstrong 2016

letting go

.....and here we have the breaking.......

words and images © copyright melody armstrong 2015

winter in spring

this spring

the winter cold

still goes deep

with every shiver

i go deeper too 

into the warmth and softness 

of God's love

wishing to hibernate 

but choosing to keep awake

to settle into the silence

the gentle comfort

of dark quiet hours

milder somehow

on weary eyes 

willing even through tears

 to gaze steady

into all that is pain 

and loss and beauty 

and grace

and with gratitude

brimming

there find His loving face

 words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2014

my heart at home

within this place

I find a space...

where I am safe to be me

allowed to stand tall or fall

and nothing changes

where love is framed 

on walls along the halls

and inside arms

where there is always room

to grow and know

it's never crowded 

where there are hugs and smiles

to treasure through weather 

of changing seasons

where peace is not a stranger

where living is forgiving

and hearts heal

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2014

first snow...the morning after

first snow...the morning after

it is stillness dazzling white...

it is a lone leaf whispering goodbye

to it's bare branch

and floating down to sleep on

blankets of fluffy jewels

glittering in sunbeams...

it is coolness welcomed in

through windows cracked open

and a crisp-air kiss

on a warm cheek turning rosy...

it is playful rhythms of

frosty melt

drip, drip, dripping off eaves

and flying free....

it is water blue

glanced through naked trees

and tiny teasing icicles

wanting to play at the liquid surface...

it is black and white magpie

hopping happy in the empty yard

finally king on his own

frosty bird-feeder throne...

it is pillowy white clouds

thrown onto sky-blue duvet

and painted jet-stream stripes

that disappear...

it is everything wrapped 

in stillness dazzling white.

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2013

first snow

thank you Ali for capturing pure joy!!

first snow...

it is

jitters and giggles growing

in a bubbly frenzy

til finally kids can

burst outside

in boots and mitts and snow pants

too big and too small

pulled from the hidden recesses

of closets and bins

still in summer hibernation

it is 

 hollars from the garage of 

"where's my .....[everything]"

and the two of us behind them

following happy chatter 

and frosty footsteps

tracked all the way up the street

to the new best hill behind the neighbour's house

it is 

doorbells ringing and 

more crazy kids 

smothered in scarves and outgrown jackets

peeling and reeling

 into the wonderful

chilly white world

of 

first snow.



Words © copyright Melody Armstrong 2013
photo credit:  friend Ali  M.

in the shadows

The weight of pain sits heavy in the shadows.  

My heart aches for so many of you, dear friends.  If only words were enough.  If only I could hug you all the way to wholeness.  If only....... anything to lessen your pain and make this journey easier.  

This poem is for you.....

 feeling lost again

journeying in the shadows

dark halting my steps

half-seeing

heart-frenzied 

by the deafening sound 

of fear 

pulsing silent...

  this heaviness 

stretches places 

already shadow-thin

within

and how to mend a 

thread-bare soul

with strands of light 

so frail?

oh Savior, save!

rescue me with courage

set for me

a path anew

flooded 
in the light of You

where my foot is sure

and my heart hears

only

the love in

your whisper.

Psalm 27:1 "The Lord is my light and my salvation--whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life--of whom shall I be afraid."

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2013

a million thanks

a lush heart

ripe

with a million thanks

simple repeating lines 

of wonder

written into me

 i shiver

with the knowing

that I could miss

 the gifts

i could pass right by

 the riches

the love He gives

in stones and skies

in leaves and letters and laughter

in waves and water 

and windsong

and black and white and color

in friendships and touches 

and scars

yes

even in pain

he sustains

and covers me with

reasons to believe

again

to sing and dance and laugh

again 

at beauty from ashes

a lush heart

ripe

with a million thanks

words and images © copyright melody armstrong 2013

wasn't it just yesterday?

....that our life was water

 playgrounds  

of river and lake 

to cool

to float our boat 

to forget school

to laugh and swim

to sit by and gaze at

and daydream?

....that our life was warmth

and freckles and sun 

and I followed the boys

just for fun

into the river - 

clothes and all

and who cares about hair

or hurrying?

...that our life was fresh

sweet cherries staining 

teeth and clothes 

and peach juice dripping

from chins to toes

an overflow of 

goodness and thanks

in every bite?

wasn't it just yesterday...

...that our life was together

 in early light snuggled

some afternoons huddled 

under canopy

of rain-drop symphony

storytelling faces

in strands of twinkle-light glow

thanks to husband 

who doesn't even know

he always brings light?

...that our life was transition

even while drenched 

in shades of green

and sun

a gentle knowing

that change would come

that summer treasures

get buried beneath

a pile of leaves turned gold

then snow

until who knows?

words and images © melody armstrong 2013

The Mended Tea Towel...for my mom!

It was just an old tea towel.  It caught me off guard, but it shouldn’t have.  I’ve seen it so many times before, with other things.  There in my mother’s kitchen, folded and hanging neatly on the stove was a blue and white tea towel that had been carefully mended.  Even then, with her failing eyesight, my mother still managed to mend things beautifully and often invisibly.  

The very fact that this tea towel still existed at all is what moved my heart that morning.  Why didn’t she just throw it away?  Well, I guess because it was perfectly good except for the hole.  My mom has always had the gift of seeing value and worth in something.  She could take an item that others had  no choice but to discard, and give it a second life.  Her careful pinning and meticulous attention to detail produced  patches and mends that were rarely noticeable. She didn't seem to mind putting in the time it required either.  And it did take time.  To her, this process of caring and restoring was a simple, natural and everyday thing.  I see it as extraordinary.

It isn’t just things that my mother mended, like tea towels or a favorite shirt that my husband couldn't part with. She mended people too.  She still does.  I think about all the mended people that have sat in my mother’s kitchen through the years.  I’m one of them.  So many of us were broken, worn out, stained and feeling worthless.  But she saw all of us differently.  In her eyes, we had great value.  We were worth saving and restoring.  In fact, we were perfectly good except for the holes.  She knew what we could become with some loving, careful attention and a lot of time.  It was just a simple, everyday thing.

There were people in my mom’s mending basket who I thought were almost impossible to deal with.  I remember as a kid wondering when she would ever give up on them.  I think of the time and energy she poured into so many lives….and the heartache.  Broken people can be hard to mend.  But she wasn’t afraid to tackle anything that she deemed worthwhile.  I love that about my mom. I see now that I really should have paid more attention to this everyday part of my mother’s life.  I can sew on a button and I’ve even tried mending a few items, but I clearly lack my mother’s skills.  She really is a master.  I can only hope that I have somehow learned to apply this skill to people the way my mother does.

She has shown me so much about God’s great love for people; the way He cherishes those who are broken, worn out, stained and discarded.  He sees them the way they could be with some careful attention and His loving hands upon them.  He knows they are valuable and He paid the highest price for them by allowing His own son Jesus to be nailed to a cross --surrendering his life for all humanity.  This single act of love alone brings wholeness and restoration that reminds me of my mom’s invisible patches.  To God, we are perfectly good except for the holes.  We just need to be mended.     -April 2009 for MY amazing mom.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL OF YOU AMAZING MOM'S OUT THERE!!!

words and images © copyright melody armstrong 2013

more beauty...

I hunger for Beauty -

not to own 
or possess 

but to breathe in
to be enraptured
till the One
who is
Beauty
owns and 
possesses
 me.

Pismo Beach, California.  March 2013

word and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2013

This is Love

My Jesus.

Stepping from

 eternal throne

He humbly chose

a woven crown 

of 

thorns and hatred

intertwined

made to pierce

and mock

by hands He had created.

THIS IS LOVE.

Should it surprise?

when hanging from

the splintered

bloody beams

by hands and feet

nailed firm

that all creation

trembled

splitting time

in two

with humble 

love-soaked cry

"Father, forgive them

for they know not what

they do."

THIS IS LOVE.

And though we nailed him there

blind in our hate

lost in ourselves

He chose then

this posture 

for us

of open arms 

stretched wide - embracing

and He still does

THIS IS LOVE.

As surely as He chose to die

He rose alive. ALIVE!

and though he

conquered death 

and always will

he still 

chooses

to make us free - 

free not to believe

and in our hearts

leave him

on the tree.

THIS IS LOVE.

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2013