Author: Angela

I write so my family will always have letters from home.

The Exquisite Hour

I am listening to a different piece of classical music each day as I read the book, Year of Wonder: Classical Music to Enjoy Day by Day by Clemency Burton-Hill. Once I read the few paragraphs for the day, I go on YouTube to search for the piece. I have seen how much the artists matter! Interpretations of the same song are often very different.

I have been doing this for a month now, and I look forward to a new piece each morning. I don’t enjoy every song, but I write simple words in a day planner to describe the music of the day: pensive, incessant, folksy, triumphant… and try to imagine when the music would be most appreciated. I might write that one song would be comforting to listen to when sad, or another captures the joy of a beginning or the tug of a goodbye. I also like to compare different recordings and choose a favorite artist.

The piece I include here today has been playing on repeat all week since Richard and I discovered this recording together. More than a word that best describes this song, its mood and expression, I mark the person I discovered it with. To me, this song will always be about a sweet day spent with Richard in our 28th year of marriage.

Thinking is work

So wrapped up in my thoughts, I misread the clock yesterday and made dinner very early. With my extra evening hours, I redecorated the shelves to embrace February, ready or not.

It is ward conference season and I am thinking a lot about my stake speaking assignments and ministering to very different needs among the wards. I am thinking about Paige and Michael’s move, and I am on the hunt for all the places I can display Paige’s art. Thinking is work. Writing talks and lesson plans is work. Planning is work, and so is settling into a new reality. When I accomplish something tangible, like cleaning out a closet or desk, I call it a nice break from the more arduous and intangible work going on within. Thinking is work.

Winter nest

It is winter proper; cold weather, such as it is, has come to stay. I bloom indoors in winter like a forced forsythia; I come in to come out. At night I read and write, and things I never understood become clear; I reap the harvest of the rest of the year’s planting.

Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

This was a paragraph that I read today and continue to think about. I, too, like the winter habits of reading, being still, thinking, and writing. I can flourish in dark winter as long as I have reminders that I have friends out there.

This afternoon I hung a very large magnetic board to display handwritten notes and some art. You’re right, it isn’t arranged very well yet, but we’re on our way to something good.

Painting from life

Paige and Michael are moving out of state in a few weeks, and we have spent some time sorting her college art projects to consolidate the things she wants to take or leave behind. She is a skilled illustrator, and she also has a healthy collection of portraits and figure drawings that I admire. She agreed to let me keep some of these. But how do I choose?

I will always be thrilled to display my children’s work, no matter their age.

Guam this week

Tim is serving on the southwest side of Guam. There is red clay soil and lots of vegetation, and their P-day hikes are beautiful. He is able to attend the tiny temple on Guam. I think the building pictured here is their ward meetinghouse. He is the trainer for his companion who is from the Philippines. They mostly speak English everywhere they go, but his companion is able to help Tim with his Tagalog. Tim is very thankful to be on an island that has fast food restaurants. I think the one pictured here is Taco Bell. 😄 They are teaching and loving the people and celebrate when their friends show up for church.

Beyond studying Tim’s face, I am focusing on this beautiful scenery. He is a 24-30 hour flight away. I guess you have to be that far away to escape winter.

Chasing sunlight

We had some dreary days this week, again. I chased sunlight by working with gold and yellow thread and spending an afternoon with a friend.

I chased it by reading a novel by Amor Towels, a favorite author.

I chased it by listening to a new piece of classical music every day. (See the book, Year of Wonder by Clemency Burton-Hill.)

I found sunlight as I wrote out a story from my dad’s life.

I found it as I studied about the mission of John the Baptist. (See The Life and Teachings of Jesus Christ From Bethlehem to the Sermon on the Mount, edited by Richard Neitzel Holzapfel and Thomas Wayment.)

This week, rather than put away the Christmas cards, I hung them on an empty wall in my kitchen where they will stay. The faces on the cards feel like sunlight to me.

MLK weekend

Mark assembled our new furniture because he is awesome.

Use me, God. Show me how to take who I am, who I want to be, and what I can do, and use it for a purpose greater than myself.

Martin Luther King Jr.

We are experiencing a fullness of living, with its challenges, loss, connections, fun, and opportunities to serve. Have I cried this week? Oh, yes. I have also laughed, worked, and tried to repair my mistakes. In my daily journal of God’s tender mercies, I wrote during a particularly difficult time last week that my family was a great comfort. Because of them, I had hope for a softer, gentler time ahead. It came as our older children gathered for Sunday dinner and we talked about the influence of a good friend who passed away. It came as we listened to Tim talk about his missionary work and show an interest in his siblings. It came as Richard, Mark, and I spent all weekend together, living.