Bright Promise

A few warm days arrive like hoped for but early guests, and the pear trees burst into bloom with studded branches of blossoms, flocked as if with snowy white clouds dropped from the sky.  They fragrance the circle here deliciously, sparkle and glow and turn in the sunlight casting glory into my room throughout the day in varying shades of  clean and bright and fresh hope.

I love the waving stars and stripes dotting porches here, there.  The splash of heathery pink cherry blossom against the white scalloped lattice work of a porch across the way.   The feathered green hint of leaves appearing in the trees high above rooftops, lifting heads against azure sky… the rounding buds of dogwood now appearing.  All lift me out of blue clouds that seem to want to perch on my spirit and deflate.

Sometimes jewels are hidden in plain sight and we just don’t see until we lean in — gems like the tiny blue-tinted bud vases on the windowsill above, lit from within by snowy reflection.

Hold on, He says.  I’m just beginning to paint a new spring.  Don’t give up declaring and standing in the Word I put in your mouth.  Light…life…healing…  All is bright with My Promise that never fails.    


©   Pam Depoyan

Posted in His Cloud Covering | 18 Comments

An Easter tale to hearken us to Sunday

Finding the endearing photo that inspired this drawing spun a bit of my imagination to how this long ago image might have come about…  🙂


Quickly, lightly, she tripped down the staircase, reveling in the swish swish of her lacy new dress, happy to be up and ready to await the others.  There was something so fresh, so quiet and enchanting about a new and early morning… like coming upon the first spring crocus blooming up out of the hardened brown earth… making her long to be its discoverer.

The east-facing living room had a soft air to it, a whispery feeling of secret messages yet to be told in the day and a bell-like brightness, like a brook on a rain-washed morn; someone had opened the windows so that the breeze was now billowing the sheers — where together with the sunlight flickering through them — they danced higher and higher the way music does in cathedral rafters.   It was a sweet, lovely, clean breeze that brought in the song of the birds and the rustling leaves beyond.

Above this, the mantel clock chimed, a lovely foretelling of chapel bells soon to be ringing alleluias, but it was the fragrance so filling the room now that beckoned her come, catching and soaring her heart as kite to wind.  Fragrance like a Presence of Glory.

It was then she felt it most, this Eastery, shivery, ripple-y joy.

And pulling a stool near the tall vase scrolled in blue and white birds and flowers, she leaned in to cradle and breathe in the scented blooms in her hands.

“Good morning beauties!” she couldn’t help greeting them aloud.


See two more portraits of this little girl at my Picture it in Pen and Ink blog,  All Things Childhood


May the Fragrance of His Beauty

fill your hearts and home this Easter!

©   Pam Depoyan

Heaven Scent, little girl drawing above: mine.  (Please do not copy without permission. See my copyright info button on the sidebar.  :)  ) 

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Song for this Holy Tuesday

Writing... Apples of Gold

Stock Photography - rose of sharon, rose of Sharon, summer, blossom, flower, outdoor, exterior. Fotosearch - Search Stock Photos, Pictures, Wall Murals, Images, and Photo Clipart

The Lord, our “Rose of Sharon”

Have you ever been halfway listening to someone ministering the Word, when all of a sudden something you may have heard multitudinous times wings fresh wonder and stops you in Holy Spirit revelation?  So it was when I heard someone exuberantly teach the other morn as he scripturally laid out various blessings God has made us heirs to…here and now…through the Lamb of God who was slain, our Rose of Sharon:

“He has made His very Name…Jesus, Name above all Names… to be our inheritance!” 

The Holy Spirit-imbued power behind His Name.  The Name that conquers not some, but every evil wielded against us.  Bought us healing and deliverance at the cross.  Softens the hardest heart.

Words filled my thoughts almost unbidden.  Words echoing the promise given to the disciples and thus to us who are living for Him:  My children do not nearly…

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Love Song

Writing... Apples of Gold

                       See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands…                          – Isaiah 49:16

Have you ever found yourself singing along to a popular love song on radio and finding… with just a tiny tweak… it becomes a song of praise to the One who created romance?

Today, as I joined in Easter worship at church…something about the alleluia joy reminded me… God is there in all that is lovely, beautiful…and yes, even in the romantic. Most especially in music.

And the Spirit brushed a memory across my heart.  Times when I’ve been tooling down the road in my car, singing everyday love songs as though to Him.  And how He loves that. 

Songs like Rodgers and Hammerstein’s…

Some Enchanted Evening
when You Find Your True Love,
when You Feel Him Call You
across A…

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How Excellent Is His Name

Writing... Apples of Gold

The Lord himself is my inheritance, my prize.

He is my food and drink [cup of blessing],

my highest joy! He guards all that is mine.

~ Psalm 16:5, Living Bible [Parenthesis mine]

Picture - Easter lilies. Fotosearch - Search Stock Photography, Photos, Prints, Images, and Photo Clipart

The other night, I was trying to remember the name of a musician and his music I once heard played on radio. He’d been singing a hauntingly beautiful, Hebrew-sounding song I recognized as pure Psalm – one that swept me back to days of my childhood and so many of our dear Jewish friends so deeply woven into our lives.  How often had we broken the Challah bread of friendship over laughter and song.  Sharing joy in our choirs, their cantors.  Holy God We Praise Thy Name and Adonai, Adonai...  They – sharing in our faith-filled occasions.  We – made honorary part of their Bar Mitzvah celebrations.  One or two who came to love Yeshua as…

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Identity Revealed

Sharon cookiesThanks to all of you who have been playing the “guess who” to a few of my portraits of “Before they were famous,” over at my Picture it in Pen and Ink site!  So fun to have so many of you accurately guess the family one (George at age 9, or  maybe…Georges2) !

Still stumped by who this little girl is, though?

The answer is now at this link:

along with a couple of her more well known photos 🙂

Once over there,

I’d love to know if you now see the resemblance



©   Pam Depoyan

Little Girl Drawing above: mine.  (Please do not copy without permission. See my copyright info button on the sidebar.  :)  )  

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Blossoming blooms and heart whispers

To my imaginings, the tiny market round the corner offers the ambience of coming upon streets of France – like closing a blast of wintry gray behind you, to enter upon a vacation open air market overflowing with rainbow buckets of blossoming blooms and the wafting scent of warm bread loaves fresh from boulangerie ovens in the back corner.

I can’t resist bringing home the feel with mini pinks for my white pitcher, and add this small luxury to my cart.  Astonishingly, they never seem to fade and continually cascade in tumbles of fresh-cut color atop my kitchen counter for three whole weeks or more, painting joy like birdsong to greet me every time I enter.   Mm… Perhaps this market should alter their name to Marchand Joe’s, I smile.   Such a bargain of simple smiles for $3.99…

This small-priced but extravagant delight reminds me of something I heard a new author of a book on faith telling a news anchor in interview.  “If God is talking to us all the time, why don’t people hear Him more?” the reporter poses.

“Because we aren’t listening…,” the author rejoins.  “Have you ever noticed all the people on the subway or standing in lines, headphones to ear, fingers to I-pads?  How can we hear amid all the other noise if we never listen to the quiet?”  

Thoughtfully, the anchor nods.

Out of stillness of soul comes lyrical poetry.  Music.  Ideas.  Even – the gift of fresh cut flowers.  But most of all… awareness of (and more, connection to) One who knows our entire story first page forward and calls us beloved. 

For some reason, that thought leads me along another rabbit trail to thinking of something someone told me recently.  “I love a childhood picture I have of my husband because it reminds me to see parts of the tenderness, the young innocence of who he was then is still in the man now…”

A sudden image of our Father, holding our baby pictures before Him, seeing us through the lens of who we were and who we will become in His dream for us,  stirs me…

I love that, for I love to see photos of others when they were small.  Because often they were taken before the heart was masked.  They can make me see someone in a whole new light, or reveal there is more to their story than meets the eye.   Perhaps a coworker seems constantly disgruntled, but seeing their childhood photo reveals a happy go lucky person.  What happened along the way?

See them as I do, the Lord whispers… to all who will hear.


Pink petals background. EPS 10 vector file included Stock Vector - 68245428

   They might be of people you admire or not…

Yet, when you look into their much younger faces, maybe you’ll find a bit of well known expression, a touch of endearing that makes you see them in a fresh light, gives a deeper insight of their story…

      ( Won’t you join me over at my Picture it in Pen and Ink blog for an illustrated P.S. to this post and a fun “Guess Who?”  Just click here…    )


©   Pam Depoyan

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