Chesterton on white

OK, show of hands. Whose brain hurts when they read Chesterton? Mine certainly does. Maybe that's why I've always preferred CS Lewis; he's eminently more approachable! But I'm determined to work through Chesterton bit by bit until he sits easier in my brain. (It might help if my reading time wasn't relegated to those hours when my children--and husband--are fast asleep. That's not exactly prime brain time. It's more like prime "prime-time" time--you know, better for zoning out than tuning in.) I find I have better ability to focus on his short essays at this stage of my life. It's easier on the brain. If you're struggling with longer works, try easing in with some short essays...

I've been playing along with reading Chesterton since Sarah first challenged us awhile ago, but this is my first time participating in a Weekends linkup... I thought that maybe those of you also living with lots of white outside your windows might find this equally worth mulling over...So, without further ado, Chesterton on the color white:

White is positive and essential. ...White is a colour. It is not a mere absence of colour; it is a shining and affirmative thing, as fierce as red, as definite as black. 

When, so to speak, your pencil grows red-hot, it draws roses; when it grows white-hot, it draws stars. 

...the chief assertion of religious morality is that white is a colour. Virtue is not the absence of vices or the avoidance of moral dangers; virtue is a vivid and separate thing...Chastity does not mean abstention from sexual wrong; it means something flaming, like Joan of Arc.

In a word, God paints in many colors; but he never paints so gorgeously, I had almost said so gaudily, as when He paints in white.

--GK Chesterton, A Piece of Chalk

around the corner

I have to be careful that she doesn't see me, or the game will be up. As long as I watch from around the corner, she'll continue unabashedly, unashamedly. She is holding a pretend conversation on the phone; she is speaking to her daddy, calling him "Chesser." I love listening to the things she says--my own words mirrored back to me. Boy, that's scary, isn't it? How observant she is when I'm least aware of being observed.

She hangs up, grabs some lip balm and smears it on her lips, chin, and cheeks. Then she's back on the phone, calling someone else. She hangs up with "See you later, Alligator!" I laugh from my hiding place. I don't know where she picked that up; I didn't even know she knew that phrase.

I just sit here, around the corner, and watch and listen. Soaking it all in. Because I know--I know because I have a 10-year old who was but a toddler yesterday--I know this time is so short. They really aren't little for very long. That's not a cliche. It's a fact.

Other things await. Fun things, exciting things to be sure. Real phone conversations, real lipstick...And these things? I tremble to know that they are just around the corner.

The Pink Birthday

Somebody turned 3 today. 

For weeks, she talked about her upcoming birthday--her pink birthday. Pink plates, pink presents, pink cake, pink nakkins...

I think we did a fairly good job of delivering a pink birthday to our sweet Tola D. 

But, my dear girl, you've been tickling us pink since the day you were born.

 Your smile delights. You give the best hugs ever. You giggle with Tait and you have your big brother Oles wrapped around your finger and Ziven loves you dearly. You've got a squadron of big boys looking out for you, and you better believe they always will.

Your pink ways and sweet spirit bring a little more softness to our rough-and-tumble boys. Where would we all be without our sweet little pink package?

We are so blessed to have you in our lives. We love you, our little Chickadee. Happy Pink Birthday!