Tuesday’s Word: trust

trust (n):  reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety of a person or thing

trust (v):  to commit or consign with confidence

entrust (v):  put something into someone’s care or protection

While I do keep a list of words that I might want to talk about here someday, it isn’t prioritized or scheduled in any way. What I write in any given week is what is foremost on my mind, what is resonating with me in an especially meaningful way at the time.

Right now, trust occupies that place. I’m facing some uncertainties, and it is hard to keep anxiety at bay. A few dear friends are walking through this time with me, reminding me to breathe, encouraging me to trust in the One who holds us all in his hands.

I need to remember – at times like this, at all times – that although I often feel instinctively whether I can trust a person I’ve just met, trust is not just an instinct, not a feeling.

Trust is based upon knowledge of the character of the One upon whom I rely: it is an intellectual assent, based upon evidence and experience, to his integrity, strength, and ability to do what is good and right – what is best – for me. Regardless of how I feel, I can entrust my health, my safety, my fears, my dreams, my future into his protection in confidence that He will lovingly care for me.

Icons, Part Four

image by Rebekah Choat

image by Rebekah Choat

I’m wearing my favorite sweater this morning. It isn’t fashionable. It isn’t in one of the season’s hottest colors. It doesn’t draw attention to me when I wear it.

This sweater has been in my wardrobe for what feels like forever. I’ve worn it during some of the pleasantest weather of my life, and through the roughest storms. It holds up well; even after all this time, it isn’t shrinking, fraying at the hem, wearing through at the elbows, or unraveling at the seams.

I wear it with premeditated intention some days. I wear it on days when I don’t know what to wear. Even when I’m not quite sure where I left it, I can find it by feel in the dark.

This sweater reminds me of a lifelong Friend whose love has never faltered, never fallen apart; One who walks with me through sun and shadow; One who is there, though I can’t see Him, even in the deep darkness.

Traveling at Home

image by Rebekah Choat

image by Rebekah Choat

Even in a country you know by heart
it’s hard to go the same way twice.
The life of the going changes.
The chances change and make a new way.
Any tree or stone or bird
can be the bud of a new direction. The
natural correction is to make intent
of accident. To get back before dark
is the art of going.

~ Wendell Berry

Here and Now

A few weeks ago, Baby Girl the Second and I accompanied my husband on a business trip/vacation . Despite long hours in the car and the challenges of helping a nervous child navigate strange beds and unfamiliar restaurants, it was a wonderful trip.

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We saw the Independence Day fireworks over the Mississippi River in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

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In Greenville, South Carolina, BGS mustered the nerve to make it all the way to the top of the climbing structure in the Children’s Museum, I sat on the bank and put my feet in the Reedy River,

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we hand-fed bison from the safari bus, and joined a friend to watch the longest minor-league baseball game any of us had ever seen.

We saw elk just yards off the Blue Ridge Parkway as we drove to Tapoco Lodge, deep in the mountains on the North Carolina/Tennessee border. We chased fireflies beside the Cheoah River.

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We spent a beautiful day in Cades Cove, and an exciting one at Dollywood. We navigated the stretch of road known as the Tail of the Dragon – 138 crazy twists and hairpin turns in an 11-mile stretch – several times by day and once by thick dark night.

By the seventh day, Baby Girl was missing home, and I too had started thinking about the road back – and all the things to be dealt with on our return to the “real” world. But as I sat on the porch in the still of sunrise the next morning, the cool air and the trees and the goldfinches and the river all singing together brought me back to the moment, to the glorious richness of right here, this very now.

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Shadows lie ahead,
yes. But see how that branch is
dancing in the breeze,
easily bearing its own
weight, and the finches’ as well?

~ Rebekah Choat

The Alchemy of Silence and Sound

Originally posted on All Nine:

Rebekah Choat reflects upon “How to be a Poet”

How To Be A Poet

by Wendell Berry

(to remind myself)

i

Make a place to sit down.

Sit down. Be quiet.

You must depend upon

affection, reading, knowledge,

skill – more of each

than you have – inspiration,

work, growing older, patience,

for patience joins time

to eternity. Any readers

who like your poems,

doubt their judgment.

ii

Breathe with unconditional breath

the unconditioned air.

Shun electric wire.

Communicate slowly. Live

a three-dimensioned life;

stay away from screens.

Stay away from anything

that obscures the place it is in.

There are no unsacred places;

there are only sacred places

and desecrated places.

iii

Accept what comes from silence.

Make the best you can of it.

Of the little words that come

out of the silence, like prayers

prayed back to the one who prays,

make a poem that…

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The Swing of Poetry: Musings on Stevenson

Becka Choat:

Three years ago today, my first contribution to All Nine Muses was published. I still can’t thank Chief Muse Kelly Belmonte enough for her vote of confidence in giving me this opportunity, and all my fellow Muses for their support and encouragement.

Originally posted on All Nine:

All Nine welcomes Rebeka Choat to share her musings on Robert Louis Stevenson. Becka is a reader, a writer, a lover of the printed word, dedicated to bringing people books to nourish mind, soul, and spirit.  Her website is www.booksbybecka.com.

Image by Rebeka Choat

The Swing of Poetry: Musings on Robert Louis Stevenson’s “The Swing” 

by Rebeka Choat 

How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,

Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside —

Till I look down on the garden green,

Down on the roof so brown —
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Early some mornings before…

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