More Than I Could Say.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oo9zo8JJcqk&feature=related

There is something frantic, that wrapped its-self around my unsuspecting mind this morning. When I looked in the mirror I half expected to see a reflection that was not my own. I feel I have the mind of middle aged brunette from the 60's. If my body followed suite I would have curlers in and crazy cat eye glasses.

A bit frightening, don't you think. Sure am glad my outside appearance doesn't suffer such a drastic change as my mind.

Things are settling down now. My startled-ness was a reaction to my sudden realization of how much I have to accomplish. It has slowly, over the past few hours sifted out into something quite good.

I think the word is motivation.

-Jonlyn

A Love That Runs Deep.

Today I sat in a small cabin. My grandparents bought it about a year ago, when they found out Papa's brain tumor had returned. We were told he had three months to live.

I remember the day Jenn called me. I was sitting in the Great Hall with Hannah Murphy and Ruth. They watched as my face melted into a blank stare devoid of the slightest emotion. I can still hear Ruth's voice ring out the question "Jonlyn, are you alright?" There was nothing I could say. I was hardly breathing much less forming sentences.

You see three months is a good amount of time to Cherish. The only problem, the thing that was wrenching at my heart was the fact that the next three months of my life were devoted to Covenant College in Lookout Mountain GA.

Today a year away from that place I talked with him. Thom Hughes, my wise grandfather. I learned a little more about his and Mimi's life. It has been a beautiful one to say the least. It has been inspiring....

-Jonlyn

*SMILE*

Refreshing........

Two Friends....

Cloves in the garden.........

Quiet Walks.....

Simple....

Telling wine.......

Lovely...

Cold songs...........

Lowen*Me

Sienna*Me

Did i tell you that I love her?

Are there really any words?

~Jonnie

The Old Piano

Here in the music room we have a piano. I have come to find it rather comforting. Sure there are other nicer, finer, or more important pianos in this world, but not to me. There was one in Mexico that was very important in my life. All summer I had craved the black and white keys that were so far away. Then finally in the basement of a church in Renosa MX. I found one. It was the only one I saw there. There were mostly key boards plugged into fuzzy speakers. They didn't resonate or have the feel a real piano does. There is something in the resistance of the keys that pulls you in.

Last night Jenn and Jason were here. Jenn began to play the piano and asked for me to sing with her. Mmmm.... And so i did.

Cold, cold clay to your waste its hard to go on this way

Cold, cold clay can't escape can't find you in this place

*

And I dive right into your lies and your sin

And clay wraps round again over my skin

*

One more glance and you're swallowed up whole

Into the myre found deep your soul

*

Cold, cold clay to waste hurts to go on this way.

*

You turned to leave I grab your shirt

And the clay falls into the dirt

*

Open my eyes and role over in bed

And realize the clay was all in my head

*

You looked at me and all you said

Was baby goodnight.

Our voices splashed together. There will never be another voice so inviting to my soul. Although there is one equally intriguing. I will have her back in a few weeks. If one feeds my soul you can only imagine what both together bring. There is a deep satisfaction in three voices that meet. After months of separation the initial event will be overwhelmingly like returning home after months of being away.

-Jonlyn

Yellow Pages

Today I sat in the living room with Mom and Heather. Dad was in the kitchen playing his guitar and singing. He was happy this morning. Smiles are normally on his face, but today his heart seemed to follow suite.

Sitting with mom and heather I noticed a book.

There is more time soaked into it than I can describe. It looked As if every page had been visited by thousands of captivated eyes. Hands had traced each line, to peer with more depth and intensity when a re-read took place.

Have you ever been so intrigued by a withered script?

Mom told me that it came from her Dad's library, my Papa. This deepened my desire to scan through the pages. As I did I wondered what he took from each word, each page. Yes, we would gleen a simillar message, but I couldn't help thinking his must have been grander than mine.

Perhaps the picture below captured some of my intrigue. That was the general idea.

-Jonlyn

Boldly Stated.

On The Pilgrams Progress

*

And now before I put up my pen,

I'll show the profit of my book, and then

Commit both me and it into that hand

That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand

*

out before thine eyes

The man that seeks the everlasting prize:

It shows you whence he comes, wither he goes;

What he leaves undone;also what he does:

It also shows you how he runs and runs,

Till he unto the Gate of Glory comes.

*

It shows too who set out for life amain,

As if the lasting crown they would obtain,

Here also you may see the reason why

They lose their labour,and like fools die.

This book will make a traveller of thee,

If by its counsels thou wilt ruled be;

It will dirrect thee to the Holy Land

If thou wilt its derections understand;

Yea, it will make the slothful active be;

The blind also delightful things to see.

*

Art thou for something rare and profitable?

Or wouldst thou see a truth within a fable?

Art thou forgetful?Wouldest thou remember

From new-years day to the last day of December?

Then read my fancies;they will stick like burs,

And may be,to the helpless,comforters.

*

This book is writ in such a dialect,

Countless the minds of listless men affect:

It seems a novelty and yet contains

Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains.

Wouldst thou divert thyself from melancholy?

Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly?

Wouldst thou read riddles and there explanation?

Or else be drowned in thy contemplation?

*

Wouldst read thyself, and read thou know'st not what,

And yet know whether thou art blessed or not By

Reading the same lines? O then come hither,

And lay my book, thy head, and heart together.

*

John Bunyan.