How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living. Each day is the same, so you remember the series afterward as a blurred and powerful pattern.

via How We Spend Our Days Is How We Spend Our Lives: Annie Dillard on Presence Over Productivity | Brain Pickings.

Brazilian Halloween
Brazilian trick-or-treaters

Ten years ago, Brazilians started getting into the US-style Halloween. Now the kids are gung-ho, if not the parents. Above, two of the few trick-or-treaters that we had this year. It was so hot, they came with their capes in hand. The Missus made them put the costumes on before she’d give them candy. Continue reading

• The body cries for rest, tired from the day’s fullness (of blessing). It reaches that stage more quickly than in years past, most certainly from the increasing demonstrations of God’s goodness. Age has nothing to do with it. And with the body’s tired state, the mind gets more pensive.

• Two posts of mine today on The Fellowship Room about Catholicism on the move (or maybe, digging in) and my new favorite Corinthian Bible verse.

• Boo on hootsuite (social web app) for going to a paid service and yanking away free stuff I was using. Nambu (for Mac) now taking over most of my needs, after spending some precious time finding a replacement.

• Vicki and I travel out of state next Sunday for me to teach 1 Cor. and Hebrews at a preacher training school, over a week’s time. I’m racing to get it all done. Invite came suddenly, in short time frame, because of a situation there. They’re paying our airfare. Continue reading

Today’s Cloudburst poem, first in a long time (I’m afraid to look at the archives), started as a prayer on United Prayer, this morning:

Lord of life, when at the start or end, or in the midst, of living, we hail you as the Giver of breath, who animates the beating heart.

As I wrote the prayer, the iambic meter just kept rolling and seemed to be asking for a poetic form. I left it for a while, but kept getting drawn back to it. So over the next few hours, I sketched out a sonnet, the form suggested by having read earlier this morning Wordsworth’s “The World Is Too Much with Us,” published in 1807.

For those who don’t like to read about a poem without reading it (for Cloudburst materials don’t get published online), sign up here.

• The last painter that Sr. Joao brought was a disaster; he’s back now to fix what the guy mucked up. The Missus will be off to an appointment at 3:30, so I’m headed back to house shortly before that, so she can leave.

• Remember that Brazilian flag flying from the top of the apartment building under construction? The day after Brazil lost in the World Cup, the flag came down. Patriotism didn’t outlast the disappointment.

• Learned that Tyndale House commissioned a special typefont for the NLT, called Lucerna. I’ve never enjoyed a Bible so easy to read, easy on the eyes, as my NLT. (The edition I have is a pleasure to handle in every way.) I wish I had the NET Bible in this font. I wish I had this font in my collection.

• Wallpaper that greets me when I boot up: “Time.” The maxim: “How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.” — Annie Dillard

A few of my thoughts under rain and breeze. Picture above, taken in my front yard, yesterday.

* The world is in a flower: the burst of life, the beauty of symmetry, the joy of color, the fading into death, the seed of new beginnings.

* I feel like I’m approaching an insight, but instead of landing, I’m in a circular holding pattern.

* He threw words on paper like mama threw bacon in the pan, but the result wasn’t nearly so delicious.

*Started raining again a few minutes ago, a straight-down steady rain, no-nonsense, the way rain was meant to be, satiating the earth, a call to growth, a boost for life. Continue reading