Five Minute Friday ~ Almost

Almost.

It's an oxymoron within a word.

Just stop and think about it...

A sort-of once upon a time compound word, all + most, and meaning not quite or very nearly...

Yet all by itself, all means the entirety, wholly and without limit

and most mostly means the greatest number, amount or extent.

How can you have a greatest possible... yet be without limit?

Doesn't possible limit, at least in a sense?

I've thought "almost" so many times this week...

I almost had that recipe just right... then the phone rang, I ran downstairs to answer it, got distracted until I smelled burnt.

She's almost over her cold... except that she's still keeping me up a chunk of the night with the coughing that no longer keeps her awake.

She almost got a good grade on her French exam - well, at least on half of it she did; the other half? Let's just say there is lots of room for improvement.

It's one of those words that can be good - if the very nearly was a bad thing barely escaped - a car accident, a brush with death, a goal so close to being attained...

Or it can be bad, if it is a not quite but desperately hoped for first soccer goal, your dad telling you how much farther before reaching the rest area and the bathroom when traveling, a failure that was so close to success...

Thankfully, almost never describes

Jesus

the sufficiency of His sacrifice

the reality of His resurrection

He's surety for the future for all who've placed their hope and trust on Him.

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First Five Minute Friday write in a loooooooooooong time!

Not linking up... just writing for the fun of it.

We'll see what happens next week!

Photos of Tori playing soccer

taken by her grandfather

Dick Stewart

Captured Memories,

Lansing, MI

A Poem INSTEAD {Not a Wordless Wednesday}

The Lighthouse

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,

  And on its outer point, some miles away,

The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,

  A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day. 

Even at this distance I can see the tides,

  Upheaving, break unheard along its base,

A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides

  In the white lip and tremor of the face. 

And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,

  Through the deep purple of the twilight air,

Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light

  With strange, unearthly splendor in the glare! 

Not one alone; from each projecting cape

  And perilous reef along the ocean's verge,

Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,

  Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge. 

Like the great giant Christopher it stands

  Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave,

Wading far out among the rocks and sands,

  The night-o'ertaken mariner to save. 

And the great ships sail outward and return,

  Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells,

And ever joyful, as they see it burn,

  They wave their silent welcomes and farewells. 

They come forth from the darkness, and their sails

  Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,

And eager faces, as the light unveils,

  Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze. 

The mariner remembers when a child,

  On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink;

And when, returning from adventures wild,

  He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink. 

Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same

  Year after year, through all the silent night

Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,

  Shines on that inextinguishable light! 

It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp

  The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace;

It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp,

  And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece. 

The startled waves leap over it; the storm

  Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,

And steadily against its solid form

  Press the great shoulders of the hurricane. 

The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din

  Of wings and winds and solitary cries,

Blinded and maddened by the light within,

  Dashes himself against the glare, and dies. 

A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,

  Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove,

It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,

  But hails the mariner with words of love. 

"Sail on!" it says, "sail on, ye stately ships!

  And with your floating bridge the ocean span;

Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse,

  Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!"

Photos from a stop to see the Port Austin lighthouse, 

up on the tip of Michigan's thumb, 

on a dark and gloomy afternoon. 

The storm blew began to blow just as 

we were getting back to the car!

Wordless Wednesday ~ Camping on the shore of Mishigami

 

M&M had a nasty cold and was croupy... so here we are steaming her. Hot water and tea tree oil is an amazing combo and can be accomplished, even at a rustic campground!