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I see a lot of categorizing people. . I don’t fit perfectly into any box, though some are closer than others. Those that fit best are the ones that define relationship. Christian, Grammie, Mom, teacher, daughter, sister, friend.
Those that are close to what I am, personality-wise … ENFP/ENFJ, Sanguine/Melancholy.

Those that are *close* to my belief system: Protestant, Mid-Acts Dispensationalist, Open Theist, Constitutionalist/Libertarian.

Education styles I prefer are Charlotte Mason, Classical and Unschooling (I know, it sounds contradictory, but there are good aspects to each).

What I am good at (sometimes), writing, art, creative stuff in general, singing, teaching, exhorting, talking in front of people, listening, helping, encouraging and rebuking. 😉 I am great at organizing and terrible at keeping things organized.

What I am terrible at includes – keeping track of money, frugality, finishing things, keeping order, reading directions, sticking to a diet or exercise program, unquestioning obedience (not so sure that’s a bad thing, though) and understanding technical stuff. Higher math seems a brick wall, and thus so are technical aspects of science. *That*, makes me sad.

What I love – God, Truth (in all its forms), people (especially my family ❤ ❤ ❤ ), music (except improvisational wandering stuff and heavy metal), impressionistic art, bread (this is my Achilles heel), poetry, great stories – especially historic ones, history, science, teaching things that matter, cooking & baking, fellowship with those of like mind, and time alone in beautiful places. Baby back ribs. Hot cocoa and blueberry pancakes. 😀 Great movies and walks with my Sweetie!
I can hold two apparently opposing views at the same time, but not dogmatically. This is while I am processing…

I am a work in progress. Definitely haven’t figured me out completely yet, let alone anyone else. I often change my mind or change direction because of this. But whatever direction I happen to be going in, I do so enthusiastically!
There you go. Me in a nutshell.

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When I think about our early days

I smile as I remember

the whirlwind courtship,

crazy days

and 30th of December –

You pledged that you would be my own

and gave a ring of promise

That I would never be alone

and sealed it with a kiss.

32 sweet years have passed

though sometimes complicated

our life together has been sweet

and so appreciated!

Your faith and faithfulness to me

have been an inspiration

Your love has been an anchor

during days of desperation.

And in the good times or the bad

You’ve loved me as a bride.

I’ll always treasure you my love

resting safely by your side.

Whatever comes, you’ve shown me

what it means to love by grace

How thankful that I am for you

each time I gaze upon your face.

All my love and gratitude

for 32 sweet years gone past

and pledge my love for many more

as long as life will last.

Happy Anniversary, my Sweetie!

Love, your Jane

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For the sins of the fathers
and the sins of the mothers
you were cast off to others,
and who could have guessed –

through no fault of your own
adrift and alone,
you tried to make sense of
what others thought best.

Like a scattered puzzle
missing a part
you tried to rebuild it
with a broken heart,

no place of belonging,
no end to the longing,
to recover the losses,
and make a new start.

But the pieces around you,
had a different design.
Your edges grew torn,
for the fit, wasn’t mine.

And the day you recovered,
the pieces you lost,
was the day I discovered,
the immeasurable cost.

For the sins of the fathers
and the sins of the mothers
you still felt cast away,
though you had found me

and with edges still raw from
the pain of adjustment
you have not found comfort
in your new family.

And I pray the Designer
of families all,
will reach down with mercy
on those who would fall…

and restore what is broken
and replace what is lost
to help us break down this
barrier wall.

That the sins of the fathers
won’t leave you adrift
and the sins of the mothers
won’t leave a great rift –

But let there be healing
while through pain it must come,
let love cover the damage
that the past has done.

Replace with a fresh hope,
the rejection and sorrow.
And may forgiveness
fill our hearts for tomorrow.

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I walked down to the Potter’s House
one fine sunny day
to find the Potter hard at work
with a stubborn lump of clay.
He poked and prodded, pressed and pounded
then sighing in dismay
considered tossing that lump away.

But now instead of a darkened frown
His face lit up as He cast it down
And worked to form and bend it
to the new thing He intended.
Though starting with hope of a chalice cup
A sturdy chamber pot rose up.

A brand new lump, when He was done
was unwrapped, moistened, thrown and spun.
It yielded gladly in His hands.
To a chalice on the table stand.
The chamber pot began to say,
“But why have you made ME this way?”

“Why am I for common use
instead of a chalice for wine or juice?”

But the Potter said frankly, in reply
“It is not yours to question why.
Don’t I have the right to make
What I wish? It’s no mistake.
I used your temperament to find
your exact calling – for your sake.”

“I did not cast you in the heap
or throw you out into the street.
You still have found a useful place
and in this, I have shown you grace.
Though a chamber pot you be,
Be the best chamber pot, for me.”

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There was a time when time was not, you say,
And before time existed, there was God
But “before time” brings sequence into play
And it must be so – though it does seem odd.

The Cosmos burst from thought, intent and Word
blazing light where only darkness reigned
And for the first time God in Heaven heard
the chickadee and warbler’s refrain.

If there was time when things began to be
there must have been a time when things were not.
Design created, necessarily
would have a Mind from which they first were wrought.

And where creative thought exists there is
a sequence dwelling in the Father’s mind.
The nature and existence that are His,
Creation directs wanderers to find.

For His eternal nature, and His ways
are clearly seen and known by those who look.
He who formed the earth and nights and days
Brings evidence to light in nature’s book.

The stars were lit one day, but will burn out.
What once was spun in orbit, fade away.
But God who was before, without a doubt.
Will never cease, though Earth sees it’s last day.

And in the plan, revealed by Living Word
New Heavens and New Earth are yet to be
And eye has not yet seen nor hearing ear
the wonders He designed for you and me.

He who set the Heavens in their place
And calls the stars and planets each by name,
Calls to us, though still a fallen race
to seek and find Him – that is why He came.

For Father, Spirit Son – as One agree
that all who come repentant, will be blessed.
And sealed in Heaven is this firm decree
Those, weary, heavy-laden will find rest.

And there will be a time, with no more sun
or moon or stars as we would see them now.
The Light that lights the world will be the One.
Before Whom Heaven and Earth someday will bow.

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To be content
while striving for more
To guard my children
with an open door,
 
To love as God does
in a world full of sin
without letting worldly
temptations in,
 
With the faith of a child,
but not easily swayed,
To live in freedom,
with God’s will obeyed,
 
To seek holiness,
and struggle to learn
the right from the wrong,
without judgment, discern –
 
Not trusting in self,
yet to rightly divide,
to find self approved,
and to live as I’ve died,
 
Armed, ready for battle,
with peaceful trust,
and do all for love,
because I *must*…
 

To fear God is wisdom.
Yet true love, casts out fear.
Somehow I need both
while I dwell on this sphere.
 
No wonder the world
thinks Christians are odd.
Even the faithful
disagree about God!
 
So, Lord my prayer is,
as the New Year begins,
where my efforts fall short,
please cover my sins.
 
And if my mind fails
to make sense of Your will,
Let your grace lift the veil,
so I’ll follow You, still.

by Jane E Clark, Dec. 17, 2012

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Penumbra

You gaze at me, assured, composed,
as if your answer, unopposed
would stand against all scrutiny.

But what is clear in your own mind,
as one who sees and yet is blind,
is merely practiced litany.

You cannot see half hidden by
the shadow of the if and why
a nuanced answer signified.

And speaking yet into the air
enchanted by your doctrinaire
opinions that have not been tried –

You will not countenance a doubt
that anyone may have searched out
a truth you have not realized.

But I can see you, I can hear.
Your point of view is very clear.
And nodding silently, I go.

There is no point continuing
when only one is listening.
He will not learn, who only knows.

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Sad Spring

It used to be the sunlight shining through the trees
the warming breeze
would bring a smile to my face.

It used to be the song birds flying over me
in harmony
would fill my heart with such grace!

But what was once a springtime of a brand new start
now breaks my heart
I didn’t want you to leave…

I etch your face from memory on this day and then
you’re gone again
and all that’s left, is to grieve.

Oh sad spring
it doesn’t seem fitting that you come around
all light and sound
to a heavy heart.

Anything
diminishing my pain would seem a mockery
As all love for me
is torn apart.

When the light within is darkness, how great the loss
pick up the cross
as one who’s already dead

Let the songbird sing a dirge it is more fitting now
Would you allow
new dreams to be fed?

I etch your face from memory on this day and then
you’re gone again
and all that’s left, is to grieve.

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Familiar Friend

A business call,
a meeting planned,
a note half-written,
pen in hand.

Caught up in urgencies
I find
the worthier
has slipped my mind.

Days flee away!
Tasks without end,
have distanced my
familiar friend.

Now sitting here
and missing you,
I wonder what
I need to do,

to return
comaraderie.
Familiar friend,
remember me?

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Ode To Derrida

Discarding the loaf, he gnaws on the crust
Declaring all food but tasteless dust.
“Because you have always eaten bread
That doesn’t mean you’ve been well fed.
You’ve missed the whole point,” he said with a grin,
“Since you have no stomach for original sin.”

For logic has fallen and can’t arise.
The meaning of meaning? Delusional lies.
What seems food to you is not food at all
What seems true to you – a siren’s call.
And you will live happily there in your dream
not caring if things are not as they seem.

The stylus bleeds when fixed in his grip,
conforming the straight to a mobius strip.
Denying philosophy, playing the sage;
No words in the center, the margin, his page.
He signifies. Indicates. Yet you might miss –
The words have no meaning. Not even his.

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