Molly O’Neill, one of the greatest food writers imaginable, shared that quote on her blog today. Tomorrow, I’ll be working with her and folks from the Oregon Truffle Fest and renowned truffle-dog trainers from Blackberry Farms here in Eugene, Oregon learning about truffle dog training while I capture some authentic moments, and hopefully a few delicious bites, from the annual Truffle Recipe Contest.

Food and wine events fill the soul with inspiration, the hunger with unique flavors, and the iphone with new contact information with friends made around the table. I was fortunate to enjoy a studio tour and simple lunch today with a new friend, and amazing photographer, in Portland- John Valls. The friendships, food and photo fun will continue throughout the weekend- so be sure to stick around!

The only thing missing is my love, Luis. I’ll raise a glass for us both

I see things differently.

“A photograph takes the mind hostage in its quest to free the soul” ~ quoted from my new Blog template site.

Where will photos take you?

Coming in 19 days-WordTraveling.com

Sign up on the right where it says “follow the blog” to stay in the loop.

See if these words sing for your heart as they have for mine….(I shot this photo in St. Emilion, France)

I Stand by the Door

I stand by the door.
I neither go too far in, nor stay too far out,
The door is the most important door in the world-
It is the door through which people walk when they find God.
There’s no use my going way inside, and staying there,
When so many are still outside and they, as much as I,
Crave to know where the door is.
And all that so many ever find
Is only the wall where a door ought to be.
They creep along the wall like blind people,
With outstretched, groping hands.
Feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door,
Yet they never find it …
So I stand by the door.

The most tremendous thing in the world
Is for people to find that door–the door to God.
The most important thing any person can do
Is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands,
And put it on the latch–the latch that only clicks
And opens to the person’s own touch.
People die outside that door, as starving beggars die
On cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter—
Die for want of what is within their grasp.
They live, on the other side of it–live because they have not found it.
Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it,
And open it, and walk in, and find Him …
So I stand by the door.

Go in, great saints, go all the way in–
Go way down into the cavernous cellars,
And way up into the spacious attics–
It is a vast roomy house, this house where God is.
Go into the deepest of hidden casements,
Of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood.
Some must inhabit those inner rooms.
And know the depths and heights of God,
And call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.
Sometimes I take a deeper look in,
Sometimes venture in a little farther;
But my place seems closer to the opening …
So I stand by the door.

There is another reason why I stand there.
Some people get part way in and become afraid
Lest God and the zeal of His house devour them
For God is so very great, and asks all of us.
And these people feel a cosmic claustrophobia,
And want to get out. “Let me out!” they cry,
And the people way inside only terrify them more.
Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they are spoiled
For the old life, they have seen too much:
Once taste God, and nothing but God will do any more.
Somebody must be watching for the frightened
Who seek to sneak out just where they came in,
To tell them how much better it is inside.
The people too far in do not see how near these are
To leaving–preoccupied with the wonder of it all.
Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door,
But would like to run away. So for them, too,
I stand by the door.

I admire the people who go way in.
But I wish they would not forget how it was
Before they got in. Then they would be able to help
The people who have not yet even found the door,

Or the people who want to run away again from God,

You can go in too deeply, and stay in too long,
And forget the people outside the door.
As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place,
Near enough to God to hear Him, and know He is there,
But not so far from people as not to hear them,
And remember they are there, too.
Where? Outside the door–
Thousands of them, millions of them.
But–more important for me–
One of them, two of them, ten of them,
Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch.
So I shall stand by the door and wait
For those who seek it.
“I had rather be a door-keeper …”
So I stand by the door.

Sam Shoemaker, founder of Faith At Work at Calvary Episcopal

Today, I found it re-posted at this blog. Thank you!

the sun lit the Word FORWARD as a prophetic message that day...

Where have words taken you? Where will you go through words ? Pack your bags…
Departing in 28 days- Destination- Unknown. But Exciting.

Any guesses? Leave me a comment…

Stay tuned and sign up on the right for more clues.

Enjoy! Lyrics below…

I wanna soar with You
Upon wings like eagles
But I’ll crawl with You too
When the dark and lonely questions come

I wanna stand true
No matter what’s new or comes through
I can’t stand still
Whatever hits I’ll keep making movements to You

I’m running fast and free to You
‘Cos You are the movement and fight in me
I’m running fast and free to You
‘Cos You are my home where I wanna be
Come move in me
Where I wanna be, come move in me

I wanna float with you
The currents driving me
But I’ll paddle hard too
When the waves and rapids overcome

I wanna stand firm
When my mind’s weak and my emotions squirm
I must stand true
Whatever hits I’ll keep making movements to You

I won’t walk away, won’t walk away

read through, then share your treasures in the comments!

the world needs more poets
just for this time

words bursting with whimsy,
questions, intrigue and rhyme

prose to inspire
lyrics singing out
bringing light to the lurking
shadows of doubt

I’m certain they’re out there-
words straight from the heart
wondering where to get a break?
play their part!

perhaps they are yours
these words full of play
safely covered in your ragged journal
waiting for that someday

WorDS:
COME ALIVE!
as butterflies in spring

May this be the year
all our pages grow wings
while unlocking new life
on hidden, treasured things

Little Man, Little Man,

I just want you to know-

Little Man, Little Man

That I Love you So.

Little Man, Little Man,

You’re sent from up above-

Little Man, Little Man,

Such a gift of love.

And every hair on your head is counted.

Every eyelash God has seen.

Every smile that you give me softly

Is just a piece of joy He brings.

Thank you, Abba, for the gift and miracle baby of Luke Ezra.

Happy Fourth Birthday, my love- My Tico Lico Waco Taco!

One two.

1-2

12.

won too.

One two.

1-2

12.

won too.

1-2

12

won too.

Numbers echoed on 1-2/12

marching across my brain

leaving footprints and visions

One foot.

Two feet.

Quick, quick

S-l-o-w,  S-l-o-w

Quick, Quick

S-l-o-w, S-l-o-w

Quick, Quick

S-L-O-W, S-L-O-W

You: Resolve!

I resolve!

One foot at a time

One two.

1-2

12.

won too.

To Dance and not march

through 1-2

By faith

Victorious!

all shapes & sizes.

Some perfect

But others…

petite.small.medium.large.super-sized.

white.black.orange.spotted..striped?

broken.chipped.cracked.

weathered.aged.tumbled.

covered & bogged down

or consumed by something bigger…

attempting to get into a different shell.

Yet, together-

with broken glass recycled into jewels,

we compose the sands of the earth.

Each of us- perfect or broken,

is a creation …

… is beautiful…

… is treasure

Which one are you?