Showing posts from November, 2011

Exciting News!

Okay, I am so excited I can hardly stand it. My awesome friend, Nava, is starting a blog today. The picture I am sharing here is from her first post. Please hop over HERE and check her out.

 I think you will absolutely love her photography. I have shared quite a few things of hers in the past but she is getting better and better all the time. It seems that she has an incredible ability to capture God's most intricate beauty. Two favors I would ask of you--would you kindly consider becoming a follower of hers and would you kindly consider giving her a little "shout out" on your blog?

She is a wonderful person who loves Jesus with all her heart and I want her to be encouraged in this endeavor today. Thank you for your beauty.

© all photographs and text property of Dianne Hogue unless otherwise noted
Good morning dear friends, hope your holiday was everything you dreamed it would be.

 We had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Just one person missing--my DIL, Kim, was in bed sick. She did get to cook with us all day on Thursday but had to miss Friday, the day we actually celebrated together.  To us the particular day doesn't matter so much--it is when we can all be together--and that was Friday.

 Before we ate, we formed a circle--14 strong--and told what we were thankful for. Of course with it being the first Thanksgiving since the death of my nephew, it was a very emotional one--many tears--but good tears--and the smiles and recollections of all our blessings certainly trumped the tears.

After lunch our whole family went to Michael's house to watch our precious piggies from the University of Arkansas play LSU. We got beaten, badly, and our hearts were broken about that but it is just a game and there will be other years.

 I usually mess something up (recipe wise) every year but th…

A Poem for the Prisoner

The post today is dedicated to all of you who have someone who won't be spending Thanksgiving with you this year because of imprisonment of one sort or the other.

The day I wrote this poem, my heart was hurting for an acquaintance who had gone to prison. I had just driven over the top of a hill and the steeple of a beautiful white church was draped against a blazing autumn sky.

The steeple pointed my mind straight to the God of the Universe who cares about my every thought. These are the words that came to me. I realized later that this poem could just as well describe the person who is locked in spiritual, mental, emotional, addictive situtations, or as one reader pointed out in a comment on the original post, even in their own neighborhoods.

 As I topped the rise this late Autumn morn,   I saw a sight—my heart stood still   For there in majesty rose on that hill   A church, a steeple, a life reborn. 
 How does a person walking free   Express in words the colors seen   The blazing reds an…

Fighting the Good Fight of Faith

Shortly after my mother died thirteen years ago, my husband told me he was going out of town for three days.

Seeking to know God more intimately and the consolation of His Peace, I chose to take off work for three days in order to sing and pray, fast and study God's Word. I needed additional strength. For by that time, I had been praying for my sons--and then my sons and their wives--and then my sons and their wives and families for thirty-two years.

But while I was doing that I also knew my mom was involved in my life-long quest of faithful prayer for those I love most. When she died, some of my strength seemed to die with her. I say "seemed" for it really didn't--that was just my perception, my weakness, my grief and mourning taking hold robbing me of faith and spiritual stamina.

Over the course of three days, I kept praying for a "Word from God." At the end of that time, the Words that kept coming to my mind, to my heart, to my Spirit were "take up t…

Wearing Forgiveness Like A Crown

Would you take a moment and consider this: A person, any person, wearing a crown--whether it be an 18 year old newly crowned Miss America, a 70 year old queen of a country, a newly crowned 30 year old king of small nation, a 6 year old celebrating her birthday, or a 100 year old queen of the nursing home who has outlived all of her peers and celebrating a century of life--

 What is the demeanor?

 What is the posture?

 What is the expression on the face?

 When considering this, I could not think of one instance where there was a sad demeanor, dejected posture, or a hang-dog expression on one's face. All I could recall in my mind's eye was a cheerful, gracious demeanor, posture that spoke of self worth and a beautiful expression of life on a contented face. I'm sure there are exceptions but I don't remember any.

I trade these ashes in for beauty,                                              And wear forgiveness like a crown,
Coming to kiss the feet of mercy, I lay every burde…

the red kettle

I read something recently that saddened me to a great degree. It contained language that strongly suggested, if not outright said, that the Salvation Army did not help or care for people who were of a different persuasion on beliefs that differed with theirs.

 These beliefs are listed on The Salvation Army website under About Us, What We Believe, Position Statements. They have listed their beliefs (and given scripture on almost every one of them) on abortion, alcohol and drugs, economic justice, euthanasia, gambling, homosexuality, human equality, human trafficking, marriage, pornography, religious persecution and suicide.

I personally have never known the Salvation Army to ask a person's position or beliefs on any of these subjects before they reach out a helping hand. The person writing said they would walk by "the red kettles" this year due to the Army's stance on certain ones of those listed.

I have not given much to the Salvation Army in recent years.  We cannot…

Weekend Worship at Central Baptist, Conway, AR

Clap your hands all ye nations; Shout to God with cries of joy.

How awesome is the Lord most High,  the great King over all the Earth!

He subdued nations under us, peoples under our feet,

He chose our inheritance for us, the pride of Jacob, whom he loved.

God has ascended amidst shouts of joy, the Lord amid the sounding of trumpets,

Sing praises to God, sing praises; Sing praises to our King, sing praises.

For God is King of all the earth; Sing to him a psalm of praise.

God reigns over the nations; God is seated on his holy throne.
The nobles of the nations assemble as the people of the God of Abraham,  For the kings of the earth belong to God; He is greatly exalted.
Psalm 47 NIV

He is greatly exalted!

© all photographs and text property of Dianne Hogue unless otherwise noted

A Mosaic

'Afew days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I made. The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed, are as crisp as autumn air." Eric Sloane

"A woodland in full color is awesome as a forest fire, in magnitude at least, but a single tree is like a dancing tongue of flame to warm the heart."  Hal Borland

"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all."  Stanley Horowitz

"How beautifully the leaves grow old.  How full of light and color their last days."
John Burroughs

"You crown the year with your bounty, and your carts overflow with abundance."Psalm 65:11

© 2008-2011 all photographs and text property of Dianne Hogue unless otherwise noted

Her Heart's In South America

Last night I got a telephone call from one of my granddaughters with a request. She wanted me to proofread an essay she had written for the college she has chosen to attend. After reading it, I wanted to save it for posterity's sake (yea, this is my scrapbook) and also share it with you. I hope it blesses you.

      My heart is in South America.  More specifically, Asuncion, Paraguay.  I am in love with the country and the language, but it is the people who have stolen my heart. It all began the summer after my ninth grade year when I took a trip which would unknowingly change my life forever.  I traveled on a mission trip to Asuncion and have returned to Paraguay two more times since then.Each of the trips has led me to new places and new friends.  I have tried new foods and have seen new things.  But, the point of our trips was ministry, and each time we have served others.  Our group’s main activity was an eyeglasses ministry. In the small villages of Paraguay, many of th…

Unraveled or Un-raveled


 his past Friday as we drove several hours to the funeral of the grandfather of one of our Renewal Ranch residents and saw all the "just harvested cotton" along the roadways, I couldn't help but be reminded of the slogan and song advertisers use to stress the importance of cotton in our lives--"the touch, the feel of cotton, the fabric of our lives."

 What is the touch, the feel, the fabric of my life? A Merriam Webster search of fabric harvested this definition among others--

Fabric         1.
a : structure, buildingb : underlying structure : framework

I especially like the "b" definition when comparing it to the "spiritual fabric" of our lives.  What is our underlying structure, our framework?  Or maybe a better question would be:

Who is our underlying structure, our framework?

What components weave together the fabric of our lives?

Belief, faith, prayer, Bible study, worship, praise, adoration, meditation, ministry--these are some of the stra…

In His Sanctuary

Praise the LORD. 
Praise God in his sanctuary; 
praise him in his mighty heavens. 
Praise him for his acts of power; 
 praise him for his surpassing greatness. 
Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet, 
 praise him with the harp and lyre, 
praise him with tambourine and dancing, 
 praise him with the strings and flute, 
praise him with the clash of cymbals, 
praise him with resounding cymbals.
Let everything that has breath praise the LORD.
Praise the LORD.
Psalm 150, NIV

This psalm was one that inspired the canvas above. It was done with acrylics on loose canvas.

Surrender and Praise

Last week when I was in Tulsa visiting family, my eleven year old granddaughter walked into the room and said, "Mimi, this is what I picture when I think of the word surrender."

She proceeded to fall to one knee and raise her hands instantly towards heaven. It was a beautiful posture of what should happen inside our hearts.

I grabbed my camera quickly--thinking I need to get a picture of this to use as an inspiration for a painting entitled "Surrender."

My camera was on settings from a previous night's outdoor, woodsy photo shoot--not set for indoor captures.  But I knew she was NOT doing this to be photographed by a camera--she was sharing her heart with me--a precious, once in a lifetime moment--so I went with what it was set to.

I asked her to show me what praise looks like--

She immediately stood up and reached even higher--

Today when I was reading Psalm 63 I came across this scripture and knew that I wanted to share that once in a lifetime precious moment wi…

The Battle is the Lord's

This battlefield is empty now. Where once raged the ravages of war, there is an eerie stillness and quiet. The only sounds are those of the wildlife which now inhabit this hauntingly beautiful, bittersweet land.

We cannot liken this battlefield to the spiritual battlefields of our lives because our enemy never gives up, never surrenders, is ready to ambush when we least expect it.  However, the Bible gives us a strategic battle plan.

*We are to use the sword of the Spirit--the Word of God.  When satan tempted Jesus in the desert, Jesus said each time, "It is written".............and proceeded to quote passages from the Bible.

For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. And there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account.  Hebre…

For Lonesome Backroads . . . . .

For lonesome backroads

that lead to winding trails strewn with leaves more alive on former days but more brilliant now,

I am thankful.

For friends of many years whose passions have gone the direction of mine and who love to explore those backroads,

I am thankful.

May we be more brilliant and alive in the sunset of our lives than ever before.
May our passions and thanksgiving grow to new heights.
May we give back a portion of the great love we have been given.

Happy Monday, dear friends.  May your week hold special joys as mine did last week.
These scenes are from beautiful Northwest Arkansas, Pea Ridge National Military Park, a battle site of the Civil War.

He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Psalm 23:3Thank you Lord for restoring my soul and for guiding me down these memorable paths last week.