http://memoriaarts.com/2010/01/28/word-fitly-spoken/ Thu, 17 May 2012 13:03:01 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.1 http://memoriaarts.com/2010/01/28/word-fitly-spoken/#comment-762 Grandma Kathy Fri, 29 Jan 2010 21:12:01 +0000 http://memoriaarts.com/?p=580#comment-762 And sometimes in writing, we relearn or rehear something that God is trying to say. And as we share it with others the same thing happens. And sometimes in writing, we relearn or rehear something that God is trying to say. And as we share it with others the same thing happens.

]]> http://memoriaarts.com/2010/01/28/word-fitly-spoken/#comment-761 Donna Rae Barrow Fri, 29 Jan 2010 17:48:19 +0000 http://memoriaarts.com/?p=580#comment-761 Well said, dear one. Some of us simply MUST take the time to be artful, to be creative. Robert and Alison carve out time for their band to write, practice and perform. Trista, bleary-eyed from night shifts at the hotel, steals moments to caress the fibers on her needles. I am too busy and too harried and too stressed NOT TO open up and pour out the creativity bestowed upon me by a creative God. It is part of our very essence. Without the beauty of art and words, we would simply wither. When we were transferred to Keflavik, Iceland, and the children and I delighted in seeing our belongings arrive in the truck, the very nice Icelandic movers could not help but laugh at me. It was late in the holiday season, you see... before the movers left, though boxes and papers and dust surrounded us, there was art adorning the living area walls and a Christmas tree was up! To remember... Well said, dear one. Some of us simply MUST take the time to be artful, to be creative. Robert and Alison carve out time for their band to write, practice and perform. Trista, bleary-eyed from night shifts at the hotel, steals moments to caress the fibers on her needles. I am too busy and too harried and too stressed NOT TO open up and pour out the creativity bestowed upon me by a creative God. It is part of our very essence. Without the beauty of art and words, we would simply wither. When we were transferred to Keflavik, Iceland, and the children and I delighted in seeing our belongings arrive in the truck, the very nice Icelandic movers could not help but laugh at me. It was late in the holiday season, you see… before the movers left, though boxes and papers and dust surrounded us, there was art adorning the living area walls and a Christmas tree was up! To remember…

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