Confession: This is the time of year when I can’t help grabbing my camera and capturing the last bits of color outdoors. They fill my mind with light.
(Hold on, hold on. I’ll get to the food in a minute.)
I found a spot of loveliness in my kitchen too… a sensory delight, and not for eyes only. Continue reading
Recently I came across two pictures on social media that filled me with joy.
They are wildly different: the first, pristine and elegant, mysterious, imaginative; the second, grainy and smudgy and hopelessly outdated. Look at this.
Rob Gonsalves is a Canadian artist who likes playing with optical illusion and duplicate realities. Here is more of his work, but I find the painting above simply unbeatable. I could enjoy it for hours. And I think I probably have…
The second picture is from my childhood, posted for Throwback Thursday by an old friend. It makes me super happy, partly because our dresses are so hideous and partly because we’re all so glad. I’m the squirt on the left. My brother is behind me, and I believe my cousin (who’s having a birthday party) is showing off the food in his mouth. Three family friends, all sisters, are with us.
I had an amazing childhood.
When I look at this picture I just think, “Alright. I wore knits and I survived. My kids are going to be okay too.”
What brought you joy today?
…who was disappointed in the lack of photos accompanying my last post and asked for them.
There. Happy now?
I stand amazed in the presence
of Jesus the Nazarene.
it is better
I love this picture. It was taken in joy, riding a kiddie train with my son and the other first graders, but it belongs with the dark feelings of yesterday, when I visited a nursing home with a few ladies from church. Although I am trying to be as nondramatic as possible right now, there are days when I can’t help myself.
May you never grow old.
May you never face
the long, slow loss of your humanity
the undeveloping of body and mind.
May you never face a ceiling
for days and nights on end
trapped in a place that is not home
trapped in a body that played you false.
Their souls look out through their eyes.
They are malnourished
their hearts grown scrawny and potbellied
in a desperate need for human connection.
Do I matter?
Do you see me?
Do you know?
I looked in through a surreal window,
a soul connection I did not believe possible
and almost I could not tear myself away.
I looked in
and their eyes locked on mine
the confusion the tears and the silence swam between us.
I am a very small girl
but I promise you Jesus
I will do what I can.