Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Real Life Post #1

Why not? Just some silly realities and real life pictures from this section of my life...

Let's start with the pretty things because, after all, those are equally present. First, flowers gathered by Jacob and left for me by my bedside...


...and another blossom from the yard next to his leather bound journal. We love reading through the journal entries the kids have written in years past, and this one by Jacob will no doubt be a treasure.


I'm at home tonight feeling way under the weather as the rest of the gang is at church. We are normally all there on Wednesday nights, but I'm pretty certain no one wants to contract the virus I've got. My body is aching, and my throat is burning and dry while my nose and lungs are drowning in snot. (I know, you're welcome.)

I was folding laundry when they left, having to run out after the car because I found a folder someone needed on my laundry table. My usable space for folding clothes is getting smaller all the time because it's become a catch-all for everyone's stuff. Here is a list of some of the things that are cluttering my work space:

3 boxes of surf wax
ear buds and headphones
a padlock and key
an eraser
screws and nails
soccer cleats
a roadside flare
a science book
a ziplock bag containing owl pellet bones
Legos
an extension chord
a razor knife
origami paper
an Amazon return
a quadcopter and remote
a Mason jar of coins, toys, paper clips, and other things I find in the washer and dryer

On one end I had a stack of clean, folded towels. Our towels are white, so it was easy to spot the perfect brown hand print of my son. I guess he needed to dry off his hands after doing who-know's-what. It would have been nice if he had washed first, or maybe reached for a rag folded at the other end of the table.

I tell myself that someday my perfect little space will be so boring in comparison to now.

Jon cleaned out the garage again this past weekend. I say 'again' because a cluttered garage is one of his pet peeves. Ours just fills up so quickly. The kids are not the only ones to blame- that's for sure- but their sport/outdoor things certainly do spread out and fill up any open space.

Sunday afternoon I had a smaller crew than usual since two of my kids were with friends, and only one of my boys had a friend over. I snapped a few pictures to remember the garage now, because, yeah, when the kids are gone and the garage is tidy, there will be fewer things to shake our heads at. We may as well see it for the narrative it is of life right now with our kids, and the representations of activity and blessings.

This is not how Jon left things on Saturday. No, sometime between coming home from church in the afternoon and lunchtime, the boys found an alligator lizard. They organized a home for it in a plastic trunk by the window while they searched for other, smaller lizards for it to eat.


On the garage floor, I found some sort of score board written in chalk. Maybe from the intense marble game they had going last week?


This is Andrew's never-finished popsicle stick house. He bit off more than he can chew, and the thought of building the 17 intricate chairs he says are needed is overwhelming him. (He splits the popsicle sticks lengthwise for these.) It has been sitting here for months.


The kids' corner-- There is more stuff than can fit here. We still haven't found a good solution for the surf boards. A beach towel is still rolled up on Olivia's bike from last weekend when she and Michael biked down to the beach. When I took these pictures on Sunday, the boys had gone off for some adventures somewhere, maybe with the lizard. I could tell they were also on skateboard, scooter, and swivel board since those and more helmets were missing from the hooks along the garage door frame and adjacent wall. Soon the street hockey equipment will be in use more often when the weather starts to cool; my boys and their friends like to play at the school nearby.


And this one? Sunday clothes that were stripped off in a hurry and flung about on the floor and table. No time wasted for Sunday afternoon play!


My camera lens helps me to see differently, especially the good stuff amid the less appealing things of life. I'm always in the process of learning to see better, and to search for beauty and goodness all around. I think it's worth the effort.


~Katherine

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Relentless, Steadfast Love



Joy and sorrow are this ocean
And in their every ebb and flow
Now the Lord a door has opened
That all Hell could never close
Here I'm tested and made worthy
Tossed about but lifted up
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God
-Rich Mullins

The things that speak to me the most are the honest, unpolished, and raw stories of life. Not that I expect or desire for anyone to air out dirty laundry for the public, but in a world of facades it is a refreshing and unexpected surprise when there is honesty and personal humility. This trait is particularly attractive to me when it comes to one's spiritual journey. I recently heard a quiet, timid woman speak of her love for Jesus with moist eyes and a trembling voice. The unspoken part of her story was her determination to love and follow him despite years of unanswered prayer and relentless waiting for God to come through. It was evident that God was in the process of coming through, bit by bit in his timing. What seemed to be unrelieved waiting was simply part of her story, her testimony, that made her love for Jesus and his love for her shine all the more.

God holds on to his children with relentless, unshakable, steadfast love. Of this I am sure. The devil temps and condemns, but God's love stands sure. When I am tempted to doubt who God is, that his promises are true, that his love is personal... when I just don't understand his plan and his reasons... when I am tired of holding on, and when it would be easier to just forsake...  It is at this point that I discover I cannot. I cannot doubt and I cannot let go. Or maybe it's the other way around, that God just won't let go of me.

Maybe this is what they call the perseverance of the saints. Maybe this is really what it means to be in him, protected for eternity. It's not me holding on, it's God holding me. It's not my efforts, it's his sacrifice and victory. It's all him. He is holding me relentlessly.

I came across a new song last night. Tears welled up in my eyes because the words were honest and personal, touching me because the lyrics mirror my heart and reminded me that Jesus is always there. He hasn't forgotten, and his word stands sure. And his steadfast love holds on when my heart wavers.

(Listen here.) (This link was intended for one song only, but it appears music keeps playing. I don't know what's up with that, or what the other songs are!)

~Katherine




Friday, October 9, 2015

Pestering God (and a 1/2 B-day)

About an hour ago Jon called to tell me he is boarding a plane on the other side of the world and heading home. He won't actually be home till tomorrow afternoon, but still, he is on his way. And we are happy about it.

It is Jon's usual fall routine to travel and teach people the Word of God. They come each year because they are not supposed to be taught these things. Not in that country. And so it is a privilege for him to go, and for the children and I to pray for him while he is away.

This time I have with the kids each fall is also a special routine for me. The schedule remains packed and life does not slow down, but I try to interject special times with my kids. I try to create moments for conversation, to take opportunities for learning something new, and to foster closeness within relationship. In essence, I try to be more mom to my kids and seize opportunity to further some parenting goals. (And yet, happy as that may be, the difficulty of parenting alone always becomes evident!)

The first night Jon was away, we celebrated Olivia's half birthday. As usual, I had decorated the chalk board with good wishes and given her a small gift, and in the afternoon I made the requested chocolate cream puffs. Half birthday celebrations are so simple, and my kids still love them as much as they did when they were small. They don't expect much, so it's always fun to come up with an idea to make the day stand out from the rest. In years past, I remember times when I'd "pack" up a little lunch or snack and we'd eat it in a "fort," which was the dining table all covered with blankets. Or I would pull out a few things into the grass outside the condo we rented and we'd have a little tea party. This year, I got the boys in on my plan and they helped me set up in secret. Michael invited Olivia to join him on a bike ride; while they were gone Andrew pulled out the ladder, Jacob gathered some flowers, and we quickly set up our surprise. After dinner, we all went up to the roof for our dessert.


(Oh, Jacob, your camera face makes me laugh!)








Michael and Andrew were a bit more interested in the fire than they were in being social, and I confess that this irritated me! But what should I expect? They are boys, after all, and fire is pretty enticing.


This flatter section of our roof has been used more than once. We've watched fireworks from here, the recent lunar eclipse, sunsets, and more. The view is not too shabby, either, with the ocean in the horizon.


>>:<<


I have learned that if I am burdened about something, it is likely that I am not alone. So tonight, it is my prayer that God's Word would be an encouragement to you as it has been for me.

What is the burden? It is the salvation of my kids. I cannot tell you how many people I know tell me they thought their child repented and believed, was "on fire" for God, had plans for ministry, was bold at school, etc., etc. Then they grew up and rejected it all, never having been saved in the first place. This ought to be a warning for us who still have children growing up in our homes. Just because your compliant child (or mine) seems to understand, has all the right words, all the right behavior... it doesn't mean they are saved. Parents can so easily be comforted in what we see.

And what about the child that has no pretense? With them it is clear where they stand, and clear that there is no spiritual growth in the heart of the dead. At least there is no deceit (including self-deceit, which is the most dangerous). As heart wrenching as it is to clearly know their condition, at least you know exactly how to pray.

There is no greater desire for the Christian parent than to know our children are walking with the Lord. It's the end goal. Nothing else matters in comparison. I'd rather nothing more for my children than their salvation.

But I cannot do a single thing to ensure this for them. Nor can I neglect to do a single thing that would result in their damnation. God will save whom He chooses to save. It is comforting to know that I can't screw up so badly as to cause anyone to reject God, but it is unsettling to think that I am completely powerless to bring repentance.

Have you ever tried to be the Holy Spirit to your kids? I have. I've tried to be that convicting voice. It doesn't work. It only leads to my frustration and anger, and shows my lack of faith in God who does the work of salvation alone. And it builds walls of resentment within my child. 

As children grow, our relationship with them begins to shift. When they are little, we are in charge, in authority. As they grow and mature, it is our influence which will instruct them more than our authority. True influence is not bossy; it cannot boss a heart around. Influence is loving and leading (and, yes, that includes correcting), and it demonstrates faith in the Almighty. Influence leads by example, not by force. So there is a huge element of faith here, faith that God will remain in control even as our control is diminishing.

So where is my faith? And what is the quality of my faith?

Consider this passage from Mark 9:14-29, when Jesus descended from the mountain after being transfigured:

"14 And when they came to the disciples, they saw a great crowd around them, and scribes arguing with them. 15 And immediately all the crowd, when they saw him, were greatly amazed and ran up to him and greeted him. 16 And he asked them, “What are you arguing about with them?” 17 And someone from the crowd answered him, “Teacher, I brought my son to you, for he has a spirit that makes him mute. 18 And whenever it seizes him, it throws him down, and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid. So I asked your disciples to cast it out, and they were not able.” 19 And he answered them, “O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him to me.” 20 And they brought the boy to him. And when the spirit saw him, immediately it convulsed the boy, and he fell on the ground and rolled about, foaming at the mouth. 21 And Jesus asked his father, “How long has this been happening to him?” And he said, “From childhood. 22 And it has often cast him into fire and into water, to destroy him. But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” 23 And Jesus said to him, “‘If you can’! All things are possible for one who believes.” 24 Immediately the father of the child cried out[a] and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!” 25 And when Jesus saw that a crowd came running together, he rebuked the unclean spirit, saying to it, “You mute and deaf spirit, I command you, come out of him and never enter him again.” 26 And after crying out and convulsing him terribly, it came out, and the boy was like a corpse, so that most of them said, “He is dead.” 27 But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up, and he arose. 28 And when he had entered the house, his disciples asked him privately, “Why could we not cast it out?” 29 And he said to them, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.”

~ Here we have a father, a desperate parent like me. Granted, I am thankful none of my children are possessed by demons, but let us be reminded that sin equals eternal and tormenting death! The temporal situation is not as severe, but the eternal torment which comes as a result of unforgiven sin is greater. 

~ This man was determined to seek help from Jesus, even though the leaders/ scribes had the attention of Jesus. I want to be bold and determined. I want faith that is bold and determined.

~ Jesus said, "Bring him to me." I, too, take my children to God. He wants me to! I am reminded once again that He is a compassionate God. Compassion is personal care; a deep feeling that compels to action.

~ In verse 23, Jesus' repetition of the man's words, "'If you can'!" was not anger or surprise ; it was excitement of anticipation at what He was about to do. 

~ I must be honest and bare, without pretense, and cry out to Him to have compassion and help me. If my faith is lacking, I can tell Him! He already knows it, and rejoices when I treat my relationship with Him with honesty.

~ Jesus healed the boy completely.

~ At the end of this passage, Jesus explained that God's work comes through prayer. And I know that God is inviting me into a relationship of communication with Him - of prayer - and I can come boldly and in faith. We honor God in this way because it displays our belief in His power. Conversely, we dishonor Him when we request small things and ask with little faith. Salvation is the biggest thing we could pray for, since it is a miraculous deliverance from death to life.


There is another passage about a parent coming to Jesus in faith found in Matthew 15:21 (see parallel account in Mark 7: 24-30).

"21 And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22 And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.” 23 But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us.” 24 He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” 25 But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” 26 And he answered, “It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs.” 27 She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table.”28 Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed instantly."

~ This woman was a Syrophoenician woman, a gentile hated by the Jews. She called Jesus "Lord" and recognized Him as the sovereign one. Mark says she fell down at His feet.

~She was persistent. Even though Jesus seemed to ignore her at first, and the disciples were irritated and told Jesus to send her away, she did not stop crying out after Him. She pestered Jesus relentlessly.

~ When Jesus finally addressed her, she still didn't relent. (v.27: "right" doesn't mean a moral right, but rather a customary right; "dog" was the word used to describe small dogs that are not dangerous, but hung around the home for scraps of food. Jesus was saying that the gospel was to be given to the Jews first. She understood His implications, and was willing to settle for the "crumbs." She wasn't easily offended, she knew she was worthless- this is a broken and contrite spirit.)

~ Her unwavering persistence led Jesus to say, "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire." And He healed her daughter.

~ This is what I desire-- great faith, and the spiritual healing of my children.


So let me encourage you to press on in your faith and knowledge of Jesus Christ as Lord, the one who came to seek and save the lost, the one who holds all things in His hands, the one who is compassionate. He cares about your burdened and fearful heart regarding the soul of your children, and He is mighty to save.

Be bold to pester Him in faith!


"If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!" Matt. 7:11


Katherine

Saturday, October 3, 2015

It's Official...

After the summer months spent measuring and speculating, my 12 year-old son is now officially taller than me. I've suspected so for a few weeks now, but since school started we haven't measured. Olivia initiated all the measuring this afternoon, convinced it could not be true. A measuring tape against the wall and a ruler squared off at the top of our heads seemed to indicate a tie at 5'7", so we tried a few other ways of determining "the winner," as Michael referred to it. No hats allowed, even to hide hat-head.



Then came the idea to use a level... and the bubble clearly favored Michael. Expressionless till now, just look at that air of satisfaction in his face!


But... I still outweigh him.  ;)



Later in the day, Michael and Olivia met up with the youth group to clean the church while our regular crew is away. The group went out for dinner when the job was done, and I found myself alone with my younger boys this evening. They were up for making dinner as I worked on hemming some panels for Jon's home office. Of course they needed some direction, but they did most of the chopping, sauteing, and mashing of potatoes on their own.

It's important to me that a) my kids learn their way around a kitchen, and b) appreciate the work involved when a meal is prepared for them.

They made a pretty good mess (including windows, cabinets, and floors), but it was still more help than hassle.



I took these pictures from outside the kitchen window, through the screen. I like the muted effect it has on the image.



Andrew wanted to wear the onion goggles that clearly don't fit him, and Jacob used the meat mallet to skin the garlic. They stopped every now and then to dance to the music that was playing.


This day was a nice break from a petty intense week. I am thankful that God always knows what we can handle and what we cannot, and provides rest in His perfect timing.


~Katherine

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

September Things, and Jacob's 9th

Sunday:

Heat again. I find myself picking up my phone multiple times a day just to check the weather. It's not that I don't already know the forecast, it's that maybe, just maybe, the forecast changed and relief is on it's way sooner than previously predicted. I look around at my yard plants and I give them a little more water, hoping they will make it just a few more weeks. Surely fall weather will come at some point. We're all waiting...

Heat is not all bad thought. Just a few points from the top of my head:
  • It makes me more thankful for the gorgeous weather we enjoy most other times of the year 
  • It means we enjoy our pool for longer in the season 
  • Heat makes me wear less clothes, which makes my husband happy! 
  • Fewer clothes dirtied by the rest of the family means I have less laundry
  • We have decreased appetites (or I just don't have a desire to cook), so we eat more salads and simple meals
  • Sweating is detoxifying
  • My hair will be healthier because I'm not blow drying it as often
  • My kids like me better because I buy them ice cream 

I am not by nature a thankful person; I tend to see both obvious and potential (or imagined) trouble first. I have learned, though, that I have to be deliberate in finding the good, or seeing the beauty, and returning thanks to God. This blog has been a way for me to do that, and it has been good for my soul.

It is a rare moment here this afternoon. I am skipping evening church tonight with the younger two boys because of headaches and signs of colds. Their older brother should be taking it easy at home too, since he had a pale green color to his face earlier today and had to excuse himself from the main service. He claims the nausea was just from dehydration, and that he's all better now. Somehow, I have a feeling it will be a different story come school time tomorrow. I will remain hopeful that my mother's intuition is wrong.

Football is going well this season. Jacob's team remains undefeated. He has a fun group of boys that he enjoys playing with. This weekend's game was the first loss for Andrew's team; it was a painful loss to a dirty team. The boys were emotional (some parents, too) throughout and after the game. This is good life training stuff! And Michael's team? Well, it's been a challenge, and though I wish his team were stronger, I know that life is full of challenge and I hope this is an opportunity for learning as well. Nonetheless, Michael is having a good time. Jon has surprised me with his coaching ability (not sure why I should be surprised), and his cool disposition and encouraging way is appreciated by the other parents.

Jon with Jacob's team. Jacob is #9

I'm not the best at capturing action images, but Jacob's strength is snatching flags--

Positioned and ready--

Watching. I think it's a big part of what I do for my kids. I watch games, I watch when they say, "Hey Mom! Watch this!" and I watch when they don't realize it. Watching and watchfulness.

Jon is in the process of transferring video footage from old cassettes to digital format, so we have all been crowding around the computer screen to watch these videos as time permits at night. Jon and I both agree these videos are kind of sad to watch. They are clips of magical days gone by, those days when the kids were little. Oh, I loved being a mom to my littles! They said the sweetest things, funny things; watching their little personalities in all their quirky ways is hilarious! The cuteness of those little darlings is just too much! There is one video that Jon made for me of Andrew: He was four years old, and he was in the halo while his broken neck healed. Jon filmed him dancing to a song Andrew and I called "ours" during his pre-school years. I hadn't seen it till now. He wiggled his hips and shook his tiny bottom and waved, his big, chocolate-brown eyes and deep dimples exuding charm and fortitude in a very difficult time. We all watched intently, laughing so hard our sides hurt, and for me, tears I couldn't control rolled down in a weird combination of opposite emotions surfacing all at once.

Watching all those videos make me want to love my kids all the more now, giving grace to all their faults and stumblings, comfort where needed, and constant, never-ceasing encouragement.

Those seem to be the good days-- days with little kids and babies and nestled in close. There was a happy simplicity in that season. And, yes, I know some of those days were long and hard, but the "wonderfulness" is my prevailing memory. I should think, though, that the present days will be just as near and dear to me years from now. I want to be intentionally present each day, allowing good, clear memories to form. Not just for me, but for us all. This takes work-- deliberate actions, thoughts, and words. So I pray that the Lord would help me love my husband and kids with affectionate love. I can be good at loving with sacrificial love, but affectionate love takes effort. Affectionate love is a very present sort of love; it is not withholding love until the other becomes who I would like them to be. I have become aware that I need the Lord's help in this.


->>:<<-

Tuesday:

I can’t let September pass by without remembering Jacob’s birthday. My baby is now nine. He couldn’t imagine a birthday without his best friends, so a party was a must. He has a wonderful group of friends from church and it is always such a treat to have them over. We took our traditional Mom-and-Me birthday shot before heading out to church that weekend.


Then after church, I raced home to get things going before Jon arrived with a literal truckload of boys. This age group of boys is just so fun; they don't even realize how entertaining they are by just being themselves. They all tumbled in with backpacks, pillows, and sleeping bags. Then marching through the kitchen they respectfully said, "Hello, Mrs. Rourke!" knowing that their own mom would desire this, but they forgot to look up or slow down as they rush to unload their stuff in the bedroom and change from Sunday clothes to swim trunks. Within minutes I noticed one boy run his fingers along my white wall, leaving behind 3 or 4 light brown finger sweeps of dirt. I surprise myself and smile.

Boys. They just come with dirt. Good thing for the pool and for outdoor eating!

I looked into the bedroom and two bathrooms, and there was a myriad of clothes flung all about, including inside-out Sunday pants with inside-out underwear still attached to one pant leg. Only minutes had passed and it was difficult to decipher which belongings went together, as all bags appeared to be open and their contents scrambled across the beds and floor. Fun times.






We have made good use of the table Jon built for us with reclaimed stable wood given to us by some friends. And nothing could be better to serve on a day like this than grilled burgers-- thanks again to Jon.


The boys played all day: Balloon fights, front yard/back yard, remote control cars and quadcopter, and mostly pool. Here, after a late night dinner and when all the balloons except for three were popped, I took a picture from the upstairs deck.


At 11:45 pm I could still hear loud "whispering," some bumps against the wall, giggles. I peeked inside and no one was in their own place. They said they couldn't sleep because of the coffee ice cream. Then a nearby neighborhood dog barked, and in unison 2 or 3 boys sang out loud, "Who let the dogs out? Woof, woof..." Even though I wanted to go to bed, their craziness made me laugh. They were up in the morning long before me, playing with Nerf guns.

Nine years for Jacob. Unreal. I'm sure it's because he's my baby, but I'm soaking it all in. Plus, he's just so special to me and our relationship is just so sweet. To think I had wished for another girl, and that I cried when I found out I was having another boy! I can't imagine life without him!


~Katherine



Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Grace Like Rain

Somewhere in the early morning hours, I awoke to the sound of rain. It's a normal thing to most, I suppose, but quite the novelty for us. And so desperately needed. We all slept in; the cool weather allowing us to finally sleep after many restless nights. For the first night in many, I didn't find people sleeping in places they don't normally sleep, such as the floor, or the sofa, or the guest bed.

It's raining again tonight, and I hope to make it to bed before it stops. Rainfall at night is just so wonderful.



Breakfast and rain: wild honey on toasted homemade bread, and a fresh, damp breeze through open windows. And jeans and coffee. We are enjoying this change for the 24 hours this weather will last.



We didn't do a good job closing things up, since at nighttime it was still quite hot. The door to the deck off our bedroom was wide open during the night, but I've got to say it was a lovely way by which to discover the change of weather.


After five months or so of eating our meals outdoors, we gathered around the dining room table tonight.


I was on the road this morning, driving Olivia to school, and the thought of God's grace being poured out like rain occupied my mind. He lavishly dispenses grace upon grace, and I admittedly hardly ever recognize it. Sure, I remember it when I consider the life and death of Jesus on my behalf, but God is also intimately involved in every single aspect of my life. I couldn't-- even if I tried-- have any idea how much grace He continuously pours out to me. It makes me wonder if I would more worthily walk this life if I had a better grasp of His grace. It makes me want to know more of His love for me, 'cause I want to walk that worthy walk.

Olivia reminded me of this old song as we drove along in the rain:

Grace Like Rain, by Todd Agnew (click to listen)


~Katherine

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Be Still.


We sang this together in church this past Sunday. On my left side and on my right I could see the profiles of people that are suffering-- one lady whose arm was wedged snuggly in her husband's for mutual comfort, another who fidgeted with a crumpled tissue, still another sitting stoic. My own persistently aching heart reminds me that heaven stands waiting to end all sadness and grief at the long awaited appointed time. And though conquering seems a foreign idea, the Bible says we are more than conquerors! Of course this is not of ourselves, but through Him who loved us, Christ Jesus. So while there is breath in my body, may I just simply and resolutely live to praise my Lord.


Be Still, My Soul

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heav’nly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: begin the song of praise
On earth, believing, to Thy Lord on high;
Acknowledge Him in all thy words and ways,
So shall He view thee with a well-pleased eye.
Be still, my soul: the Sun of life divine
Through passing clouds shall but more brightly shine.

first and last verses
by Kathrina von Schlegel
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