The Way I See It: Catching Up

Molly at Close to Home has a terrific photo prompt each week.  I took some time this week to fill in the gaps in my "The Way I See It" posts.  Click on the prompt links below the pictures to see Molly's posts.

Birth

As someone who loves autumn and winter, who savors the rich, earthy fragrances of mulching leaves and who happily stares at the bare branches of the silhouette oaks of February, I found this prompt challenging.  Of course, if I had done this back in the season of the nativity it would have been easier.  Fortunately, I got outside and I wandered, and we were in the midst of extraordinarily warm days.  The bulbs were fooled into bursting through.  The birth of the spring garden is a little premature, but I love the hints of bright green in the midst of the grays and browns of winter. 

Portrait

Claire and I fiddled with light and posing and hair in the midst of a kitchen needing cleaning.  I love the line of her eyebrow, the outline of her lips, the bit of light reflecting off her earring, her freeze frame expression.  

I love that she is my daughter.

I love her.

Warmth

I do not like the quality of this picture, but it says WARMTH in many different ways.  My youngest was hit with our annual February Fever and was bundled up in front of the fire doing his school reading.  He was warm.  The heavy blanket my nephew sent us from Japan was warm.  The fire was warm.  The sunlight from the upper windows was warm.

When we are sick I miss my mother, for even at the age of 52 it is her cool hand I want on my fevered skin.  And snuggling with a twelve-almost-thirteen year old, a young man who is almost six feet tall, will only get more rare as the minutes rapidly tick by.  My heart is warm with memories.

A Different Point of View

Yesterday we drove through the Sacramento delta lands on our way to and from a basketball game. It is a whole different world from my oak-covered hilltop.  

With wide open vistas, winding rivers, water-logged fields, birds circling and diving and feeding, it was warmer and wetter and refreshingly, beautifully different. Everything was flat, flat, flat. Traffic was a line of cars waiting for the drawbridge to come down again.

 

The smell of water and fish and tractor exhaust filled the air.  Stark brown fields with rows of stubbly something went on and  on and on.  Trees in perfect rows looked like a scene from Middle Earth.  Blue light softened every row and bend and branch into wonder.

 I have been thinking a lot about seeing things from a different point of view.  The view of a parent and a child, the view of a Protestant and a Catholic and an Orthodox, the view of a teacher and a student.  The view of one who is always certain and of one who is riddled with doubt.  The view of the optimist, and the view of the pessimist.  My point of view is only one vista, one aspect.  Someone else may see the same event, memory, ordinary day in a different light.  That does not need to threaten or undo me, but it does lead to humility.

I am sure I will be talking about this a lot this year.  I have a lot to learn.

The Way I See It: White

Photo prompt courtesy of Molly at Close to Home.

The Way I See It: Nourishment

The Thanksgiving Table 2011

Photo prompt from Molly at Close to Home.  Come join the fun:  The next prompt is Gratitude.

There is the nourishment of the food on Thanksgiving, but it is so much more than that.  The relationships, the traditions, the orchestration of the multifaceted meal, the autumn skies, the piles of dishes in the kitchen, the murmurs of gratitude around the house, the football, the annual viewing of Its A Wonderful Life...Thanksgiving is a day that nourishes my soul as well as my body.  

I love Thanksgiving.

The Way I See It: Wisdom

Psalm 90: 12-17

So teach us to number our days,
That we may present to You a heart of wisdom.

Do return, O LORD; how long will it be?
And be sorry for Your servants.
O satisfy us in the morning with Your lovingkindness,
That we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.

Make us glad according to the days You have afflicted us,
And the years we have seen evil.
Let Your work appear to Your servants And Your majesty to their children.

Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us;
And confirm for us the work of our hands;
Yes, confirm the work of our hands.



Photo prompt courtesy of Molly at Close to Home.  She does a different prompt each week.  Why don't you come join the fun?

The Way I See It: Simplicity

In the lengthening shadow he has climbed
again to the ridgetop and across
to the westward slope to see the ripe
light of autumn in the turning trees,
the twilight he must go by now
that only grace can give.  Thus far
he keeps the old sectarian piety:
By grace we live.  But he can go

no further.  Having known the grace
that for so long has kept this world,
haggard as it is, as we have made it,
we cannot rest, we must be stirring
to keep that gift dwelling among us,
eternally alive in time.  This
is the great work, no other, none harder,
none nearer rest or more beautiful.

By Wendell Berry

For the complete poem see

XVII, pp. 54-55 from Leavings

photo prompt is from Molly at Close to Home.

Ten2Kenya

 

I have always had small dreams. Simple pleasures, small victories, pebbles splashing in tiny ponds, this has been my realm.  But a handful of years ago I became better acquainted with my now-dear friend Lisa and her family, and at that moment I was pushed into the front row to watch what big dreams, big vision, big faith look like. I have seen them host an annual carnival to serve and love orphans and widows around the world, I have listened as their door has swung open and slammed shut to hundreds of people who come over to swim, to talk, to laugh, to be loved, I have been the recipient of their love and wisdom and frienship.  Lisa and her family do life big and they do it beautifully. 

And now their family of ten is heading to Kenya to live and work with Agape Ministries, expanding their loving arms to children who have been abandoned to life on the streets of the city of Kisumu in western Kenya. Dreaming big becomes dreaming huge when you put the wheels in motion to get eight children and their parents across the world. Plane tickets, immunizations, packing, cleaning out, and harvesting walnuts on their ranch...they are doing amazing work, and they have not even gotten to African soil yet.

When you read Agape's website, it is gut wrenching.  I can't help but stop and ask how I can contribute in my small way.  I knew we had no more money to give this month, but then the request came out for walnut harvest help; I knew we had gas in the car and three of us who could lend a helping hand, so off we went.

By the time we finished our small part on Monday, prayers of thanksgiving had been said for the completion of the harvest and the dozens (and dozens) of hands that had volunteered to help the Kjeldgaards meet their needs.  They leave for Kenya in 43 days, having seen God use so many to make this dream of serving and loving street children come true.

We love you, Kjeldgaards!  

If you would like to be a part of reaching these children on the streets of Kisumu, you can sponsor a child or you can contribute directly to the Kjeldgaard family's trip (click here to read their newsletter and see where to send your donation.)  I can attest to the integrity, work ethic and devotion of this family, and the facts about street children in Kenya attest to the dire need for this ministry to be present in Kisumu.

**Added later:  A direct link for supporting the Kjeldgaards. 

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” James 1:27

P.S.  This is also my The Way I See It: Community post.  Being a part of the Kjeldgaard community is a privilege and a blast.  The Way I See It photography prompt comes from Molly at Close to Home.  If you love seeing life through the lens of your camera, join in the fun each week.  Tomorrow's prompt is patience (Lord, have mercy!)

The Way I See It: Growth

picture from the archives

One minute you are celebrating the fact that they can tie their own shoes.....

Debate tournament ready

and before you know it.....

you are polishing their wingtips and ironing their button-down.

Growing up...it happens fast.



Enjoy photography? Join Molly this Friday for The Way I See It: Community

The Way I See It: Peace

“You have been given questions to which you cannot be given answers. You will have to live them out - perhaps a little at a time."

"And how long is that going to take?"

"I don't know. As long as you live, perhaps."

"That could be a long time."

"I will tell you a further mystery," he said. "It may take longer.”

Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow

I am beginning to realize that an eternal perspective is essential to peace.  I am not the beginning and the end, the world is not revolving around me; the story is so much bigger than my immediate life, or even my entire life.  That is a relief to me.  It is funny how when I come to accept that fact it makes life more precious, each moment more available, and life itself more peace-filled.
 

Each week I look out at the world through Molly's photo prompt and I see this creative exercise weave its way into my contemplation and prayer. Not only has peace been a photo prompt, it has been part of the Lectionary at church and therefore the subject of a fabulous sermon.  These familiar words were perfectly timed:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6&7

Not unlike joy (and if you missed the discussion on joy, you can find the post and the wise and encouraging comments here), peace is one of those things that can seem elusive, diminishing when life gets hard. But the peace we want is not based on ourselves, our circumstances, this moment in time.  It is the peace that comes from putting worries into thankful prayers, and seeing God's peace guarding our hearts and our minds in Christ.  Wow.  That is the kind of peace I want to know.

There is something about the changing seasons that reinforces this eternal perspective and its peace.  The darkness comes earlier, and we have time to light candles and enjoy the evening.

 

The acorns are falling, the leaves are changing colors, the time for planting bulbs and cutting back perennials is here.   As a friend wrote to me this morning, "Life is precious...I keep thinking about how life changes so rapidly while pretending to stay the same, and telling  myself to really be in each moment, appreciating, savoring.  I think if we could really know what a fragile gift life is, we would be living more peaceful, kind, and loving lives."  Some seasons do pretend to stay the same, to last forever, and yet it is in the changes of the natural world that we are reminded again and again that time is marching on.

We have been hit with two rain storms in the last week, and as I type this morning the rain drops are loudly landing on the roof.  The ground is happily soaking up the water, and I can see bits of green overtaking the depressing brown of summer.  Seasons change, time moves on, worries will come and go; the constant can be thankfulness in prayer, and finding true peace as my heart's guard.

The Way I See It is a weekly photo prompt from Molly at Close to Home. I have been so happy to see two friends joining in: Tolle Scribe and The Autumn Rain. Next week's prompt is growth...why don't you join in the fun, too!

The Way I See It: Evening

Some evenings are for pulling in the driveway and being greeted by the warmth of light and life inside.

Or for watching the beams of the sun's final seconds fall upon the rustic wood in the kitchen,

and noticing the sunset with jaw-dropping awe.

But some evenings are spent on the road, being parent groupies, all set for an evening of loud and proud.

 

It was a solo acoustic night for Zack.

 

 You can learn a lot about your son when you hear his music, watch the joy as his fingers dance on the strings, see his heart in his lyrics.

It was a marvelous evening.  Thanks, Zack.

The Way I See It: Autumn

The Way I See It photo prompt comes from Molly at Close to Home.


Where I live we are late bloomers in the autumn category.  We have apple festivals up the hill, and a few more coloring leaves there at the snowline.  But just down the hill at my house it has a decidedly "mild summer" feel to it.  But I searched and found signs of autumn's early rumblings:

I am not sure what possessed me but I bought a pumpkin the size of a small country.  Ginormous is the word that everyone has used.  But you know what?  It makes me laugh.  And it is so beautifully orange.  So even if I have to tighten my core muscles to lift the thing, the pumpkin is here for the duration.

The tree we have the most of is oak, and those leaves turn brown and yellow in the autumn.  It is the reds that I miss.  But yesterday at the library I saw these leaves sparkling in the early morning light and they sang "Autumn!" to me.

And walking across a parking lot, these little "lanterns" were scattered on the edge.  What a strangely beautiful plant!  With the indented lines down their sides, they almost look like fat, shriveling carrots. 

Just outside my kitchen window the light is particularly sparkling in the early morning and the late  afternoon.  The slant of the autumnal sunshine makes it all the more special.  Claire found this patch of weeds all aglow in the late afternoon yesterday.  It is amazing what the right light (and a creative girl) can do to a weed.

The long shadows and the early darkness have arrived, but we wait impatiently for a crisp chill in the air and the first rain of the season.  Autumn's pleasures are my favorites.


You should join the fun! This Friday's prompt is Evening.

The Way I See It: Joy

Photo prompt:  Molly at Close to Home

I remember my affliction and my wandering, 

   the bitterness and the gall. 

 I well remember them, 

   and my soul is downcast within me. 

Yet this I call to mind 

   and therefore I have hope:

  Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, 

   for his compassions never fail. 

 They are new every morning; 

   great is your faithfulness. 

 I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; 

   therefore I will wait for him.” 

 An early morning in Morgan Hill, California

When I think of joy I think of morning mercies, new every day, and compassion that never fails.

Therefore I have hope.  AMEN!

The Way I See It: Work

Photo prompt from Molly at Close to Home : Work.

So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling;  for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.

~Philippians 2:1-13~

 

Back to Eugene

My work in this season of life is learning to say goodbye.  Until Christmas, or until eternity.  Letting go while still loving deeply, keeping my hands and my heart open; it is the hardest job I have ever done.

 Sisters, 1985

Layers of loss make it tempting to close up, batten down the hatches, harden my heart.  But I want to keep loving, to look life in the face, all the good, the bad, and the ugly, and to still say yes to what God has for the future.  

 

I want to celebrate while I still have breath.  There is so much Life happening here, and I don't want to miss out because I am too weary to see the party right in front of me.  I know I will regret it if I don't hear the music and start dancing.

The Way I See It: Home

(A photo prompt from Molly at Close to Home )


When the photo prompt at Molly's was "Home", I was sitting in the Stanford Hospital cafeteria, waiting for the ICU visiting hours to start again.  I was surrounded by medical students whose faces give new meaning to the word tired.  I am sure this cafeteria is their home away from home.  I also saw hospital visitors, many who had children who were patients at Stanford Children's Hospital.  They knew the cashier's names by heart, they knew what soup was served on Fridays, they knew where the forks were hiding and whether or not the entree of the day was worth getting.  This was their home, too.

I had thought I would post pictures of my husband and children, because wherever they are is my home.  But as I sat having my salad, I looked up at the wall art and saw this:

Doctors,  med students, techs, nurses, all trying to help those who are suffering; family and friends looking for hope and healing for their loved ones; me, waiting to hold my dying cousin's hand.  We are all being asked to make a home in this place of suffering, for a short time or a lifetime.  This is a home no one would choose, but many have to live here everyday. 

When I am with these five beautiful faces (and their daddy) I am most at home.  But sometimes we are called away to a time of suffering, and home has to expand to that place, too.

In Hannah Coulter, Wendell Berry writes, "Love is what carries you, for it is always there, even in the dark, or most in the dark, but shining out at times like gold stitches in a piece of embroidery."

There is plenty of dark in life; we all need love to carry us.  I am thinking today of those who continue their vigils at Stanford Hospital, continue suffering, continue hoping against hope.  May God bring them love to carry them, like gold stitches in a piece of embroidery.  And may our house be a place of light in the darkness for those I call my heart's home.

The Way I See It: Morning

Molly at Close to Home has begun offering a weekly photography prompt: The Way I See It. This week's assignment is Morning.

I have a love/hate relationship with mornings.  I  love being up, but getting up is ridiculously difficult for me.  I love getting up long before the crowd, and yet I often sleep until the first person stumbles through my room on their way to the shower.  If I get up early, coffee is a necessary element, preferably a hot, fresh Americano.  Fortunately when I stumble down the stairs in the morning, there is almost always espresso waiting for me.  This is one of the benefits of having a husband who wakes pre-dawn. 

If coffee is my first morning thought, light is a close second.  Once the sun comes up over the hill and heads towards our windows, the sun and shadows wake me up to the beauty around me.  I love the morning light. 

I am never ready to eat in the morning, but eat we must.  On special days popovers are a favorite breakfast, and when they are filling the house with their buttery fragrance, even I can get hungry.

I really do love morning, it just takes a cup of coffee to remind me of that fact each and every morning.

Love to take pictures?  Next week's prompt is home.  Join the fun at Close to Home.