28.2.15

Celebrating Winter | an excerpt [13]

A lovely winter scene from The Four Seasons of Dawnyelle (which is my DOOM + Camp NaNo novel. I will finish the next draft of this book in the next two months. And it will be super fantastic).
. . . .
  “C’mon.” I grabbed Austin’s arm and ran through the snow. As I hopped into the sled, Austin groaned.
  “I really don’t want to.”
  “Get in. Now.”
  “Dawnnn.”
  “Austinnnn.”
  He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Once.” He got in and we pushed off, gliding through snow that flew into our faces. I laughed, squinting as we were attacked by little white flakes.
  Then came the ice.
  “Dawnyelle Grace Reed!” Austin hollered. “What have you gotten me into?!”
  He gripped my shoulders as we started gaining speed, plenty of ice to go.
  “MAKE IT STOP! MAKE. IT. STOP!”
  I just laughed. He was adorable terrified.
  We sped over the rest of the ice and snow, Austin swearing and threatening to kill me. I figured the best thing to do would be to ignore him. So I looked up at the sky, mostly grey, with a few spots of blue.
  The pine trees, dusted with snow.
  The other sledders, mostly college students, whooping and hollering.
It was all so beautiful.
  At the bottom of the hill, the choppy snow slowed us down until we stopped. After standing, I helped a very shaky Austin up. Then I grinned at him.
  I was covered in snow, my toes frozen, and I had a long hill to climb up. But Austin was beside me, my friends all around me, and my God above me.   I couldn’t have been more happy.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]
Rebekah

24.2.15

Celebrating Winter | Spring vs. Winter

There's something beautiful about waiting through winter and the cold and the dreary and the dead. Just like we hope for Jesus to return, we all look ahead to flowers blooming after the snow has melted away. Maybe that's the best we can dowait through the winter for our dear, dear Aslan to come and wash us clean with white snow.
So, love, take my hand,
and we'll wait together.

Rebekah

17.2.15

Celebrating Winter | "Snow" by Emily Dickinson

It sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.
It makes an even face
Of mountain and of plain, —
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.
It reaches to the fence,
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil
On stump and stack and stem, —
The summer's empty room,
Acres of seams where harvests were,
Recordless, but for them.
It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, —
Then stills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.
Rebekah
p.s. emily dickinson is just as cool as robert frost.

14.2.15

Celebrating Winter | Winter: the Challenge by Liz Cristina [guest post]

Sharp blue sky. The chill that snaps at your nose has chased away the clouds. It's sapphire cut into pieces by brown, bare branches.
A mini roadside landscape stretched like something from the national geographic. I swear, the trees looked like frosted wheaties.
For the sake of keeping to Bekah's theme, I'll try to stay away from making this an essay about cabin fever.
But I will say just this: Cabin fever happens all.the.time. where I live. Heck, it gets so cold you go on strike: I'll just sit here under my blankets and pout until it gets warmer.
And for me, this can get really depressing. I like to move. Go outside and look around. Explore. Pretty soon, when it gets below 32 degrees, I'm feeling really unproductive with my life.
Okay, I promise this is going to get happier.
This is a challenge; an invitation, to embrace winter in all its, um, necessities. You have to bundle up to go out, right? So, just do it. Open the front door with your camera, canvas and paints, notebook, what-have-you. Walk along the road and place your feet on the white lines. Hold your arms out to the side. You can go anywhere. This is your place. Create something out of it.
God put the whipped cream on the ground for a reason, ya know?

Thank you so very much for having me, Bekah! This was really fun. :)
Hi, I'm Liz. I'm a fifteen year old girl with a passion for literature and art of any kind. I'm saved by the Great Artist of the world. I post photography, book reviews, poetry, and novel excerpts on my blog, Liz CristinaI'd love for you to stop by!

6.2.15

e i g h t e e n

(foggy lens. oh yes.)
it was the best sunrise of the year (so far). and somehow i managed the whole. freaking. day. without thinking about really sad or depressing things. and i was happy. and i breathed. and i enjoyed myself.
the fact that the sky was a beautiful blue and the snow was sparkling also helped. my friends did, too. i had a last-minute birthday party, and because it was so late, i expected most people wouldn't come. but everyone did. and that? well, that made this girl a happy mess. and she felt very loved.
i'm eighteen years old. i've got lots of dreams, most big, but a few small. there's a lot i don't know, but i know that this year my goal is to let God's grace completely swallow me up. and you know what? i am going to fall in love with my life.
because i refusei absolutely refuseto let myself be miserable (for too long. and one of these days, ever).
so here's to a joyful eighteenth year full of love and throwing myself into God's arms.

Rebekah
p.s. the coolest birthday playlist right here.

4.2.15

Celebrating Winter | "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost


Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.


My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.


He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.


The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Rebekah

1.2.15

Celebrating Winter | "Magic of First Snow" by Lizzy [guest post]

I fall
Twisting with each
Breathless silence

She has let me go*
On my own
Into the foggy world
It's time for me to dance

My brothers and sisters
Spiral
With me
Together
Turn round and round
Giddy, cold, and free

The Wind whispers
We laugh
Sadness is impossible
We are beautiful
Unique

We see the children
Hands outstretched
Welcome, Welcome
They call
It is our time
To create joy

I float down onto
A wee babe's nose
Gurgling with joy
He laughs
Sneezes
It's time for me
To fly again

I am the first snow.

*frozen reference. i couldn't resist (ha).

Heya lovelies! It's Lizzy from A Flyleaf. I'm a senior in high school, in love with Jesus, writing, photography, adventures, coffee, chocolate (!!!), and life in general. Because I stay in good 'ol sunny Singapore, and I've only experienced snow once (when I was eight, about a decade ago wow), I tried my very best to imagine and picture what snow really is like. Which just shows how important your imagination is (of course, imagination of the things in Phil 4:8). It can bring you to a whole new world.

And also, thank you, Bekah for being so, so patient with me as I tried to get my blog/social life up and running again, and for giving me this honour to guest post on your absolutely lovely blog.

Just a final word for all of Bekah's amazing readers: don't ever forget the beauty in the little things. You won't regret it. xxx.
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