A Work of Heart

the art of paying attention to God in our midst

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Giveaway Reminder…

Just as a reminder…there is still time to leave a comment and be entered for the giveaway.

Just read the post below…answer the ultra-simple question and you will be entered.

I will be picking the winner on Friday around 9am (PST)…

Thanks for all those who have entered…it has been fun reading your comments.

Happy Hump Day,

Helen

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January 14, 2009Helen

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Hello. I’m Helen.

I have always loved words, whether in books, letters or dreaming of sharing my own with others.
I am a wife and a mother of three. I love Earl Grey and English Breakfast tea, Red Vines, high stacks of books and never tire of the ocean or sunsets.
I believe God reveals Himself to us each day…we just need to pay attention.
This is my spot to shine a lantern with my pen.

I am grateful for the time you spent reading my words.

I hope you will join me often and explore what it means to be a work of heart.

INSTAGRAM

15! Fifteen.15! How is it possible you are fully immersed in the teen years now, Caleb? I won't post any photos which would illustrate the contrast from then until today but it is impressive! You are all the so's! So handsome. So smart. So kind. So compassionate. So funny. So much pleasure to be around. So patient being the youngest and essentially parented by sisters and parents. So wise. So thoughtful. We stand amazed by you as you grow in strength and character and independence. You are already smashing high school and we applaud the redundancy of your grades. 👍 15 ushers in the beginning of so many adult prospects 🚘 and even though it seems impossible, we are with you! We love you Caleb! Happiest Birthday to you! P.S. may your soccer game tonight be another part of your celebration, win, lose or draw ⚽🎂🎈🍩

Day 10 #10ThingsToTellYou At the fall sports kick-off meeting, the athletic director shared in his comments how he had lost funding for an assistant and asked for everyone's patience. Back at home, I mentioned this to Carl and before I could finish my sentence, he said, "Helen, you are not going to volunteer to be his assistant!". Man, he knows me well. If you anything about the Enneagram, I am a Type 2, The Helper. Too often I have tipped towards an unhealthy 2. In 3 months, ask me about: ***how well I am taking care of myself. (A friend told me this week that I must take care of myself...but I will need reminding.) ***my writing. Mostly am I creating space to simply pick up a pen or strike a keyboard. ***me and don't be content with the answer of fine. But give me time to simmer a bit because I often don't know right away. And the photo above is before a high school soccer game, where I was a cheering parent and not anyone's assistant 😁 These 10 days have reminded me that we are all on the same team. Sometimes we need a coach to help bring out our best but more often we simply need to interlock arms, share the load and remain on the field, in our different positions, supporting each other minute by minute. Thanks @laura.tremaine this has been a rich ten days to ponder and read so many amazing posts.

Day 9 #10ThingsToTellYou My magical reset button is... *Solitude *Silence *Reading *Walking *Practicing Sabbath rest *The ocean Learning how to care for my introverted bent has been a saving grace. I am sure my family would agree. I have learned to section out time on my calendar to simply stop and refuel by some or all of the above. When I start to feel the crabbies setting in, I needed a reset a lot sooner. ***What's your magical reset button? Tomorrow is the last day of these prompts! Thanks for hanging in there with me 😄

Day 8 #10ThingsToTellYou I struggle with... contentment. From my window I see one of the last sunflower stalks bent in half and the blossoms laying upon our driveway. I sigh and grab my shears. As I approach a bee lands in the deep brown center encompassed by petals of sunshine. I put down my cutting utensil and pick up my camera. I saw a bent flower but the bee went to work gathering gold. The birds and the squirrels felt hunger abated by discarding shells for kernels, a feast, all because of one seed buried in the earth producing a harvest. I simply need to keep my eyes, mind and heart open. The bee is gone and now is the time to clip that stem of discontent.

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wassuphelen@gmail.com

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