A Work of Heart

the art of paying attention to God in our midst

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shoots of joy

Recipe for adding instant joy to your home:

Dollar Tree Vases

Dollar Tree Stones

Paper White bulbs ready to be released from dormancy
half-off for those who have tarried 🙂

Assemble and add water to level of bulb
and place in a sunny window.
(planted December 10th)

Joy Joy Joy!

Free printable here!

Note: Using a tall vase helps the shoots not grow so tall and topple.

I might add a wide bow around bottom of vase for decoration and

to hide the roots…as some members of my family find them “creepy”.

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December 22, 2011Helen

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4 thoughts on “shoots of joy”

Felicia Gaskins says:

Leave it to Helen to find a lesson that is both instructive and amusing. Creepy indeed! Mor

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December 22, 2011 at 12:00 pm
Deidra says:

Seriously? They grow just like that? That fast? I don’t have a green thumb, yet somehow these don’t intimidate me.

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December 22, 2011 at 12:25 pm
Helen says:

I know! Can you believe it? I have been intimidated for years and they were so simple and easy…I hope you grow some to add joy to your home!

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December 22, 2011 at 12:56 pm
Helen says:

Thanks Mom! Leave it to my family to keep it real as well!
Tee hee…

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December 22, 2011 at 12:57 pm

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Welcome! I’m Helen.

I am thankful you have taken the time to visit my blog.
I am a woman who simply loves Jesus. I am also a wife and a mom to 3.
Since I was a young child I have wanted to be a writer. I would read The Writers' Market as if it were a novel.
I love fonts, writing letters (the old-school way), snail mail, words, Red Vines, Earl Grey tea, books piled high and capturing sunsets from my living room or front porch.
I believe God reveals Himself to us each day...we just need to pay attention.
This is my spot to expose with the lantern of my pen, the God who teaches us spiritual lessons throughout the lengths of our days.
He's slowly and tenderly restoring my sight.
I hope you will join me often.

INSTAGRAM

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.

Day 6-#10ThingsToTellYou- A defining moment... In 2016, I decided not to renew my physical therapy license. It was a decision that had been percolating for years but was easy to send my check and renew for the next cycle until the board added requirements I was unable to meet. This decision was like drawing a bold Sharpie line through a major identifier in my life. I learned life directions can change and the core of who I thought I was can as well. Perhaps it’s my personality or being a firstborn or maybe it's true of everyone, but I have always needed to know where I was headed and what I was supposed to do. This explains why at 17, I spent hours in my hometown public library pouring over reference books on careers. I picked physical therapy out of a book. I was athletic; liked people and wanted to help people. The job description fit and my problem was solved. I had a path which seemed perfect for me and throughout college; I barely looked to the left or right. I dropped a number of classes during those years because although my interest was piqued, they would not propel me towards my self-appointed purpose. I regret not taking some of those courses. I graduated from college, was accepted to PT school and passed my licensing boards. I cannot deny God blessed me with the aptitude and favor to become a PT. Yet over the years, I grew weary. It is not an uncommon for PT’s bodies to begin to break down from lifting patients. Although I had lived much of my life appearing out-going, I’m truly an introvert. It was exhausting to talk with patients, families, doctors, nurses, co-workers all day long and have any words left for my family. After a long traumatic season for our family, I stopped wanting to get patients out of bed. I couldn’t bear to see them in pain or add to their pain with movement. If a patient refused treatment, I said okay. This is a problem! I had lost my edge and desire. When I reflect, I was a good therapist, not great. My performance reviews highlighted my writing and evaluation ability over treatment. I learned a lot as a PT, the greatest being it taught me to observe the tiniest details and deemed me a writer!

Email me!

wassuphelen@gmail.com

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