Taiko Drum

       Music

There is power in music. The power lies beyond what simple words can convey; it's a deeper element, the way an ocean is so much more than its surface.

Song has been part of every day of my life, and I'm sure of it. A certain alto and tenor pair in my childhood home sang often. Together and alone, they harmonized in song, whistled or hummed. Several pianists, with whom I was fortunate to share that home, regaled us with solo performances and duets. My church values music, and I'm so honoured to be part of a worship team, with a congregation who loves to sing. I've sung in two to eight-part harmony choirs since I was ten, and have enjoyed singing with my husband for 28 years. Children in our home can be heard breaking into song along with us, or sharing beautiful music with flute, guitar, trombone, saxophone, various percussion, and occasionally, touching that piano for which we paid for many lessons. It's not their favourite. We've learned to accept that.

Music excites, makes the heart race, encourages praise or perhaps gets you moving to a great walking or working pace that makes the time fly.

It soothes, with harmony and tradition of songs long sung, with soaring dissonance and resolution which can bring tears, or take them away.

Memory is triggered by music, so it even helps us learn.

A song can bring people together;  we know this, we can enjoy this shared memory.

This is a video of my percussion kid in a World Drumming group. Thankfully, there's no Japanese Taiko drum in the house (yet), and I may have to reread this to help recall why, when she's whaling away on a drum set, I love music.

Lord, thank you for the gift of music in my life.

Reflect

There is a pond surrounded by pines and grass. A low range of mountains, covered by millions of pines like these, creates the backdrop for the scene. Scattered cotton ball clouds hang suspended in a summer sky. All this is reflected in that pond, calm and clear, the occasional ripples of birds and insects creating a temporary blurring to the crisp duplicate of reality, but only for a moment. Then it's back again, crystal clear.

It takes time to drink in the scene, as it takes time to view my own reflective nature. This week as we relax on holiday these moments are more possible. Is it clear that I reflect God, or is it a translucent reflection, the water polluted by the stuff of life, causing viewers to be uncertain of what they see? Do the ripples of life cause the reflection to blur beyond an accurate picture for more than a moment?

First of all, I recognize that God's creation is such creative genius; it is beyond fathom. As part of that creation, I want to reflect more clearly.

Summer Flowers

As I walked today, I was blessed, again, by the delicate beauty of flowers. Blaze orange tiger lilies trumpet next to whispers of baby's breath. Trellises are thick with deep purple clematis blooms. Sunflowers, as tall as I, already, turn their sun seeking yellow faces. Brilliant red geraniums bloom, and bloom again. Delicate purple bells ring silent praises to their Creator.

Yes, storms have come. Hail has come many times. Some of these flowers are survivors where neighboring plants could not stand the onslaught. The sunflower's hand-sized leaves are riddled with holes, looking as though they'd been in a gunfight. Yes, sometimes I forgot to water them. The hardy ones survive nonetheless. Fortunately, many survived, and grew all the more.

We, too, grow and can bloom. We can bring so much color and joy to the world. Even in silence, we can witness to our great Creator. Tough times can make us stronger. The stresses of life, for the strong, with roots deep and faces toward heaven, need not bring us down.

Today, as I walk, or drive, or just gaze out the window, I am thankful for the simple beauty of flowers, and they teach me to bloom where I'm planted.

Closets

This time of year, when I'm on holidays from work, closets call out to be cleaned. For months, items have been folded, hung, tucked, shoved and crammed, in that order, into our closets. They really need to be dealt with, I say, as I find twenty other things to do.

It's a task I'm privileged to do. I'm so thankful that I bave plenty of closet space now. I have lived with sub-optimal storage conditions in many places. Honestly, I've had brick and shelf storage, tiny armoire storage, keep your stuff jammed in one hall closet storage, and the kind of accordion doors that have to be yanked all the way across two closets to get at anything. Now, things are tucked away, safe, covered, and no one can even see all the silly, squished, odd, or confused articles inside. If they could, well, they might judge me.

Here's the thing, though. I've been a closet writer for a few years. Now, I'm out of that particular closet, feeling a little exposed, but enjoying the fresh air.

What you see here is a link to my book, lanched today.

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/334770

So, I'm done with nibbling pencil ends in a dark closet.

Doris Janzen
Author of Shelter

Sample or purchase available online

I consider the aroma and flavor of two of my favorite things, and come to one conclusion: delightful.  

First, there's coffee. Being an obedient child, hearing threats of stunted growth and the like, I stayed away from the stuff for quite some time. As an adult, I knew that a little caffeine could be a lot of help - in the writing of a paper at 2 a.m., for example. I also knew that staying away from an addiction like coffee would be best before children were born. Well, that all went out the window about ten years ago. I'd chalk it up to peer pressure of the school staff room. I'm not a purist, going for the strong, black variety. No, I prefer my coffee like a good friend - she gives you the kick in the pants you need,  without being rude about it. Suffice it to say, I've looked forward to and enjoyed a cup or two daily ever since. 

Then, there's chocolate. I've started to lean toward the darker, bittersweet chocolate, smooth and satisfying. I'm certain that science will continue to discover the benefits of this as a superfood, with antioxidants, mood lift properties, energy enhancement, and, perhaps, vitamins.  That would be nice. Even if science can't provide much justification, I certainly appreciate God's gifts of coffee and cacao beans. Beans are good for you, right?

July 6, 2013

Laundry Day

So, as I'm hanging the laundry, there's a little singsong voice from somewhere before 1980 in my head going: "My mother and your mother were hanging out clothes. My mother punched your mother right in the nose..." Then, for some reason, we would spell the chosen color of blood to choose who was "it".  What an odd little custom we had.

It made me think of two things. I thought of my mother, her arms like the whole wheat bread dough she punched in the bowl as she listened to opera on Saturday afternoons, and wished I'd have taken the opportunities to work side by side with her before she passed away over 30 years ago.
It also made me think of how lovely the simple act of hanging out laundry can be. Warm sunshine mingles with prairie breezes to magically dry clothes free of charge.  Cool, moist fabric touches my skin in a simple act of kindness on this warm day. Everything comes in smelling like sky. 
So, if you have a mother who's hanging out clothes, or if you are one, you're lucky indeed.

July 4, 2013

A few more of my favorite things

I put my feet up before and after a brisk walk in the sunshine. Now, that might not sound like much of a feat :) but I beg to differ.  First of all, I had time to do it. What a lovely gift that was. I had perfect weather. I had fewer pounds weighing me down. I had energy and physical health to be able to walk. What a blessing.

For so many, including myself, that's not always the case. I spent six weeks this past winter when muscle strain in my back and legs resulted in nearly constant pain. I couldn't walk, sit, stand, or lie comfortably. Thankfully, after chiropractors, massage, acupuncture, and time, all I have is the occasional twitch that reminds me to stretch, or pay the price. It helped me to understand, through this glimpse, what people in chronic pain have to deal with everyday. For this, for the healing, and for His beautiful world to walk and enjoy, I thank God.

I realize there will be a time when physical mobility isn't possible for me. You, see, my mother-in-law and I had walked to the seniors' lodge this morning, There, they sit. Some can still walk independently, and some use walkers, but none have the independence to just "go" for a walk. 

Happy Independence Day.

It's a small thing, but it's so big.

July 2, 2013

A Few of my Favorite Things

The simplest things can hold meaning far beyond what they seem. Sometimes, to me, things hold a special significance because in my everyday scheduled regularity, I forget to stop and sniff those proverbial roses of life. Sometimes it is their very simplicity that makes them so amazing. Sometimes - hey, let's face it - they are miraculous God-given gifts to treasure.

As I begin my glorious summer holidays, I thought more about favorite things and how writing about them engraves them on my heart. If you'd like to follow my journey, you are welcome.

Sprinkles and Sunshine

Yesterday morning I sat on the front step, my palms sharing a mug of steamy java, and just watched. Yes, there were maroon geraniums and cream roses blooming, vines climbing the trellis valiantly and brilliant purple blossoms exploding. Certainly, robins chirped and crows cawed. Indeed, neighbors strolled by and vehicles passed. None of this was as lovely as cascading diamonds falling in arcs onto the grass. You see, I was watering. Well, to be honest, there's a timer, and I no longer have to haul a hose around and set the rotating spigot. Many times I recall soaking myself much more than the lawn in the process of adjusting that sprinkler. No, not now. Now I can just watch.

Partly it's the knowledge that I have a small hand in providing for the needs of these plants, thousands of them, really, and assist our Creator God in sustaining life. This is a beautiful thing. Perhaps it's a responsibility.

It is also the sound of the water droplets - the kish, kish, kish as it rotates in a lovely pattern. There are gentle crashes as the spray patterns collide in surprise. Leaves of trees and bushes catch the drops of life and share them generously with the thirsty soil who truly needs it most. If we were all so generous.

Mainly, though, the beauty of this scene is in what is seen. Spray catches the light and a rainbow appears, changes, disappears, and is clear again. As one path crosses that of another, an ultra fine misty spray swirls against the bright blueness of the summer sky. Chandeliers are continually created to fall gently to earth. How could I not watch and appreciate the simple beauty of sprinklers and sunshine?

I'm so thankful it's summer, and I can take the time for this simple yet favorite thing.