project 365: catch-up

oh my WORD. this will be the LONGEST POST EVER. just prepare yourself. and if you don't want the torture, just go here to view all the photos.

{Monday: 11.09.09} interview day: Vancouver, WA. loved the people. liked the program. God knows...

{Tuesday: 11.10.09} in celebration of thanksgiving. and autumn. chai tea & a pumpkin muffin every morning. the perfect breakfast.

{Wednesday: 11.11.09} tea. not chai: Tazo-Calm in the yellow package.

{Thursday: 11.12.09} it was a surgery day. and i got to wear this little lovely. LOVELY.

{Friday: 11.13.09} apparently i couldn't decide which shoes to wear. i realized later in the day that some of them have been traveling with me for the last 8 years. not time for a new pair yet though...

{Saturday: 11.14.09} a patriotic pin for somebody special. sorry to ruin the surprise :)

{Sunday: 11.15.09} wrapping presents for the soldiers. it was a long process. worth it though. if not for them, then for me :)

{Monday: 11.16.09} the stack of advent gifts for the soldiers...i hope they enjoyed their little pieces of home building up to the caramel wafers & Rummikub Christmas morning.

{Tuesday: 11.17.09} a stop (more than i should have that week) at Some Bagels. i've decided that no other bagel compares.

{Wednesday: 11.18.09} sunset. unaltered. i used to think summer skies were prettiest here. but i think i've changed my mind.

{Thursday: 11.19.09} jon's advent calendar. filled with photos from home & notes of encouragement. the package made it safely...on time...& i saw them hung on his plywood wall.

{Friday: 11.20.09} in the middle of our interview day, i decided i was tired. but they bought us coffee. and i was so glad to be done by 3pm.

{Saturday: 11.21.09} headed back to WA from Boise. boring, horribly boring drive. good people on both ends, though. they made all the difference.

{Sunday: 11.22.09} the day was spent driving. unpacked. packed. drove. at least i had good weather & dry roads.

{Monday: 11.23.09} they handed me a map on the first day & told me to go 3 places. i did it. and then wondered why God forgot to install the GPS in my brain when He made me. SERIOUSLY.

{Tuesday: 11.24.09} i spent $120 on parking for the month. one of the many reasons i decided that i'm a country-girl. big cities just aren't my thing.

{Wednesday: 11.25.09} i still can't believe she has a dog this GIANT. and a husband. and i also can't believe that we aren't in first grade anymore. here's to a 20-year friendship with one of my first recess buddies....i love you, alli!

{Thursday: 11.26.09} it was a new thing for me...hitting the (insane) "Black Friday" sales on the DAY OF Thanksgiving. the Factory Stores opened at 10pm. we waited on the exit ramp for 30 minutes. i couldn't believe how crazy-busy it was. but oh, it was fun!

{Friday: 11.27.09} my (many) trips to Goodwill produced some AMAZING finds. this one is for Jon...he needs a bit more sunshine over there :)

{i also decided that i am going to attempt to fill my entire house with treasures from thrift stores...the hunt is so much more fun that way!}

{Saturday: 11.28.09} @ Portland Saturday Market. we just looked. and “ooed” & “awed” once. and drank coffee & ate frozen yogurt & pho. i've missed her friendship.

{Sunday: 11.29.09} i ate so many Clementines that my mouth was full of canker sores. i didn't care though, they were the best EVER.

{Monday: 11.30.09} the bed was hard. the basement was cold. but the heart of their home was warm. and i was thankful for a roof & full tummy. my days were long enough that i slept well anyways. thanks, Dad, for that "Clark" gift of the ability to sleep ANYWHERE.

{Tuesday: 12.01.09} the skytram was quite a ride. another cold, clear day. we rode right over the freeway & could see into people's backyards.

{Wednseday: 12.02.09} i thought i only brought a couple of books. and then i unpacked my bag & wondered why i brought them at all. i can't help but hope that i'll like reading again...someday when it doesn't remind me of studying.

{Thursday: 12.03.09} the morning did NOT start off right. slept through my alarm. didn't have time to shower. smeared my mascara. was running late. oatmeal exploded in the microwave.

i made it ontime afterall.

{Friday: 12.04.09} i moved the camera before the shutter closed. and the hurried blur seems to describe my life lately: always running...always tired.

{Saturday: 12.05.09} a hall in the clinic. really, really nice clinic on the 9th floor of the skyrise. i decided i like rural medicine afterall.

{Sunday: 12.06.09} in the morning. remnants of the night before, evidence of the day ahead. makeup. "magic" skin creme. makeup remover. earrings.

{Monday: 12.07.09} interview day. it was freezing cold...but cold in Portland means clear skies. we could see all THREE mountains. there isn't anything like that view. maybe someday i'll see them from the top.

{Tuesday: 12.08.09} i found “free” parking in the VA. i figured it was okay since jon is deployed. at least that is the excuse i'm giving myself.

{Wednesday: 12.09.09} i bought a bag of Treasures milk chocolate + caramel. bad idea, jlyn...bad idea.

{Thursday: 12.10.09} my parents drove down & took them to dinner. cute little French Cafe they've been going to for 27 years. i like to think they had their first date their. the food was simple--not that good actually. but the company? the company made the dinner. doesn't it always, though?

{Friday: 12.11.09} 2am is too late to leave the hospital. and 3 hours of sleep is not enough to fuel the energy to return just 4 hours later....this will be my life for the next 3 years. i'm having trouble getting so excited about it.

{Saturday: 12.12.09} my days were long. no internet access meant lots of time with my friendly phone. the solitude was heavenly.

{Sunday: 12.13.09} i went to return some "Black Friday"-on-Thursday purchases & ended up shopping for my parents. kind of fun, actually...picture texting came in handy.

{Monday: 12.14.09} in the morning. EARLY. because the roads are almost empty. that never happens.

{Tuesday: 12.15.09} the rain finally (finally!) came. after 3 weeks of COLD, dry weather & clear blue skies, the Portland clouds rolled in.

{Wednesday: 12.16.09} more chocolate. the attendings had stocked the resident room. which made for happy taste buds...but not-so-happy adipose.

{Thursday: 12.17.09} my adorable hosts in Portland. they were the perfect reminder of selflessness & grace. God knew what i needed that month.

{Friday: 12.18.09} i decided that i just *had* to try it: grass fed Oregon beef & organic fruit milkshakes: Burgerville didn't disappoint. although jon being there would have made it better, i am quite certain.

{Saturday: 12.19.09} i skipped BodyPump & opted for Pilates instead. oh my it was wonderful...just what my body needed.

{Sunday: 12.20.09} wrapping presents. this was the longest i'd ever waited to start shopping & finish wrapping. never again, i told myself.

{Monday: 12.21.09} amazing sunset. the camera couldn't quite capture it. but then again, God's beauty is hard to contain in pixels.

{Tuesdsay: 12.22.09} self portrait. some days, with jon gone, i have to remind myself that it's okay to feel good. this was one of them.

{Wednesday: 12.23.09} "Patience is a virtue." those Dove Promise Messages keep me eating chocolate...& keep reminding me of life's little pleasures. i needed this reminder today.

{Thursday: 12.24.09} candlelight service was nice...except for my fever & lovely Christmas virus. i missed him, too.

{Friday: 12.25.09} the best part of the day (other than Jesus, of course). we got to talk for over an HOUR. second longest conversation in the last 6 months. a Christmas present to remember :)

{Saturday: 12.26.09} i am loving my new camera strap. finally had the time to make one :)

{Sunday: 12.27.09} i woke up with pink eye. my fever broke on Christmas Eve. i went to work looking like some weirdo. the no-makeup thing was kind of nice though.

{Monday: 12.28.09} i spent the day watching ultrasounds. i almost let my mind wander to wanting one. ALMOST.

{Tuesday: 12.29.09} i was bold & started a photography "tips" series on our blog. hopefully people find it useful. i'm excited for jon to get into the hobby... :)

{Wednesday: 12.30.09} the fog was so thick. that perfect, veiling fog. the symbolism was frighteningly accurate.

{Thursday: 12.31.09} my mom set a place for him at the table for dinner. we really wished he could have been there.

{Friday: 01.01.10} spent the first day of the New Year watching the Criminal Minds marathon. i think jon & i will have a show to watch now when he comes home--since i'm addicted & he's never seen it.

{Saturday: 01.02.10} they took me wine tasting. i was done after 3 sips. but i hung in there. in the process, i decided i'd rathere go ice cream tasting instead.

{Sunday: 01.03.10} i bought a XXL men's dress shirt at Value Village for $6.99. and 4 days later it is a tunic. i love it!

war.

I’m starting to forget.

Forget the closeness of his hugs. Forget what it’s like to wake up with him warming one side of the bed, body heat generating a greenhouse effect under the covers. I’m starting to forget what it feels like to hold his hand, sit next to him on the couch, join him for dinner after sunset.

I’m starting to forget. And it is terrifying.

Terrifying like I’d imagine it would be losing someone you love—the someone you love. Because after 6 months, after 9 months, after 12 months, it gets too exhausting to live your life waiting for phone calls or letters or emails. It is too emotionally draining trying to rearrange your schedule, your meetings, your patients, so you’ll be available if he calls.

But he can call.

And when I’m starting to forget, I think of them.

{my Grandpa. WWII. Germany. 1945.}

{letter from war. Grandpa to Grandma. WWII.}

I think of those women. The ones who waited by the mailbox as seasons passed, who didn’t have clear phone lines & frequent emails; whose ink-laden letters were carried by wheel, by water, by foot into the fields, the forests, & even into the firing. The women who raised entire generations of children without daddies to hug, without fathers to join dinner after sunset, without husbands to warm the bed.

I think of them. The ones who missed dearly, hoped daily, & loved deeply.


{photo from WWII. Germany. 1945. "Johnson, squad leader"--from Grandpa's Infantry Company.}

{my Grandpa. WWII. location unknown (likely Germany) during his deployment}

The ones who didn’t enjoy luxurious honeymoons—many of whom barely had weddings.

The ones who welcomed their soldiers back with open arms & hopeful hearts after thighs had grown thicker, babies had grown bigger, & hair had grown grayer. The ones who left their knitting posts & picked up rivet guns, who left their desk jobs & found employment with scrap iron, & who traded their laced kitchen aprons for coveralls & workgloves.

{babies without dadies. c-1945. from family album.}

Suddenly, when I remember them, that terror of forgetting doesn’t seem so bad…12 months doesn’t seem so long…and “I talked to him yesterday” takes on a whole new meaning.

{ox. taken in Dresser, Germany. WWII. 1945}

{my Great Uncle Bud. WWII.}

Because his voice sounded close enough to warm the bed next to me.

Because I gripped the phone as I would grip his hand.

{jon celebrating Christmas morning with us...he watched me open the present he sent!}

Because our prayers before dinner connected our meals.

Because sitting on the couch is a reminder that his spot next to me is waiting.

And because the fear of forgetting evokes the thrill of fond memories.

I can’t help but delight in the walk.

thank you. for the prayers, thoughts, & unending support.

13 Ways to Better Photos...DAY 2 {the golden rule}

If you learn NOTHING ELSE over the next few weeks, LEARN THIS. Seriously. It will absolutely change your photos.

Take a look at this photo. Nice, right?

Now what if I told you that EVERY photo I take follow ONE RULE. Would you believe me?

The rule is the RULE OF THIRDS. And, in my humble opinion, is the most important rule to making your photos look fabulous & your subjects look, well, fabulous.

{What do you notice about this photo? See how the lines--the "thirds"--perfectly divide up the objects in the picture? The National Monument is in the right third of the photo...the WWII Memorial is in the lower third of the photo. Not only does their placement allow a "beginning (the WWII Memorial), a middle, and an end (the National Monument)", it also makes the photo much more visually appealing...}

Let’s look at a few examples…

{do you see where the "Rule" might fit here? Divide the photo into vertical & horizontal thirds...see how each "dominant" piece fits (jon's sunglasses...Max's nose...)?}

{those pretty green stars are the dividers...and you are right...jon's sunglasses (which stand out on their own) were placed in the upper third of the photo...& Max's giant nose in the lower third. This makes the photo balanced. What else do you notice? If you answered the tightly cropped frame, you'd be right! The photo was taken in the car...& despite not having much room, the background visual "noise" of other cars on the street would only have detracted from the subjects in this picture.}

{Do you see the rule applied here? Nothing says something has to be placed in every "third" of the photo--but instead of the building taking up 1/2 of the photo, the Rule of Thirds applied allows a balanced, asymmetrical photo that is more visually interesting than one where the building fell in the middle of the picture.}

{Korryn's eyes fall in the upper third...most of her torso in the left third. Even though her face is in the middle, the continuation of her torso in the left third forces our eye to move from the middle (her face) to the third (her torso & arms). Much more visually interesting than centering her torso & having her face fall in the right third...can you figure out why?}

{here again, Beth is the main subject of this photo. Cleve is a secondary subject--I didn't include his whole face on purpose here. Can you find the points where the "rule" applies? Beth's eyes are the "focus" of this picture--they fall in the upper & right third of the photo. Because her eyes are the focus, nothing else in the photo really matters--it naturally falls into the "rule" because of the placement of her eyes in the viewfinder.}

{Again, this picture follows the rule of thirds with Ketra's eyes as the "focal point" of this picture. Andrew is, once again, a secondary subject for this particular shot.}

Once you practice looking through the viewfinder, following the rule of thirds, it will become second nature. So no, I don’t consciously *think* about this rule each time I take a photo—that would take FAR too long. Instead, I realize that my favorite photos--& those that are most visually appealing—are ones that follow this rule.

AND remember, this rule applies to ALL photos--not just photos of people or portrait sessions, but ALL photos! Landscape photos, scenery, detail shots, everything! For the next 11 tips, pay attention to the rule in EVERY photo. Once you start to notice it, try to incorporate it into your own pictures...i PROMISE they'll get better!!

…and I’m willing to bet if you look at YOUR favorite photos or those you most like looking at, they’ll follow this rule too.

This post is part of a photography series...
Day 1 {angle}

13 Ways to Better Photos...DAY 1 {angle}

The FIRST (& most important) rule of photography (in “The Rule Book of jlyn”) is to recognize your angle—as in, the angle that YOU, as the photographer, take from the other side of the viewfinder.

In other words, GET DOWN & DIRTY.

One of the first things I realized was that I, as the person behind the camera, can’t be afraid to look like an idiot.

{case in point}

And since I realized that, I’ll do what I have to do to get the *right* photo. Which often means laying down in the middle of the sidewalk. Or turning myself upsidedown. Or leaning over or under railings or decks. Or shoving myself in corners & crevaces to find that shot.

It also means that Jon has learned to not roll his eyes or be embarrassed when I lean across the table to take pictures of his dinner. Or when I refuse to let him eat his cupcake before I snap a photo of it.

When you decide to GET DOWN & DIRTY with your camera, also pay attention to what you are looking at…and the angle that YOU are at, compared to your subject/object you are photographing. The purpose of photos is not only to capture “Kodak Moments”, but also to tell a story. And the LAST thing you want is to tell a story of double-chins at unflattering angles. So…

Always try to take pictures from either above…

{taken from directly above Gabe}

{taken from about 3 feet away, looking down at Korryn}

{taken standing on deck above Tayte--remember you don't always have to see their face!}

{taken standing on balcony above living room...what can you see about this picture? taking the shot from above not only lets you see everyone in it, but also allows you to see the setting & conversation happening}

…or at eye level with your subject (if it is a person).

This will eliminate the saggy eyes, double chins, & unflattering shadows. Can you see how taking photos from above forces the subject to OPEN THEIR EYES?! And how taking them from eye-level (or just slightly above) seems to hide those unflattering features (although I’m quite certain none of these subjects had any to begin with…).

{see how Tina's eyes are "forced" open by my standing at eye level, just barely above her?}

{i was laying completely on the ground in this shot...which is typically a great tactic for lively munchkins...}

If you avoid taking photos of people from below, not only will they thank you for not accentuating their double chin, but you also won’t miss out on the most “alive” part of their face: their EYES.

BUT…if your picture tends to focus on a THING instead of a PERSON, feel free to shoot from below—aim your camera upwards & tell your story that way.

{what "story" does this shot tell? something about GIANT trees & the fact that we were in awe of their size...see how taking the photo from below makes the trees look larger & the people look smaller in comparison?!}

{now let's look at this unsuspecting kitchen shot. i'd just baked Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins...& walked in & just snapped this shot without thinking...}

{but look what happens to the muffins...& the evidence about how BIG & YUMMY they are when i got up close & took the photos from below. makes those muffins look a whole lot better, doesn't it?}

Try to tilt your camera so that the lines in the photo are NOT in line with the frame. OR, try to line up the outside of your viewfinder with straight lines in the photo; this will make your angles look on purpose & your photos look more organized.

{in this photo, i lined up the yellow street line with my frame so they ran parallel. see how the shot looks "on purpose"?}

So...focus on:

getting down & dirty

losing the fear of looking like an idiot behind the camera

taking shots from different angles: above & at eye level with people, especially...& below with objects or places.

Day 2: THE MOST IMPORTANT RULE is coming...don't miss it :)

flower child.

Hey, How you doin’?, he said, the vowel of “hey” lagging in speed, voice smooth as black coffee. I was a little taken-aback by his greeting & even more shocked to find him lounging on an elbow wearing shiny metal-framed Blues Brothers sunglasses. His speech was slowed just a bit, vowels & syllables dragging here & there creating an accent I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that he was a child of the 1970’s; a kid of peace, love, & rock-and-roll; a teen of smokes & drugs & all-you-can-get. At age 63, the youth had long been gone, but the cheeks below his tousled mop of thinning hair were rosy.

We learned he loved music—guitar, in particular. And I pictured him in a field of daisies, some blonde haired Farah Fawcett whirling around like in the opening scene from the Sound of Music. We learned he loved art…and I figured something odd like paint splattering or wood carving was probably his forte. We learned he loved traveling, & road biking, & Harley’s, & the Beatles.

We also learned that, in his days of freedom, he really loved his booze. He’d get drunk, shoot up, wander a bit, love on some lucky woman, sleep…& start it all over again. And suddenly my picture changed. Instead of fields of daisies & VW Vans & the happier scenes of Forrest Gump, my imagined pictures of his life turned gray, hazy, chaotic.

I couldn’t quite grasp it. Not him. Not the 1970’s. Not the drugs or sex or rock-‘n-roll. But I could grasp the fact that his abdomen was packed with fluid that would have to be drained. I could grasp the fact that his liver was failing, secondary to Hepatitis C he contracted sharing needles. I could grasp the fact that his lungs were destroyed, the consequence of smoke inhalation from years of sacred puffs. And I could grasp the fact that he had regrets.

“My mother told me never to touch the stuff”, the “o’s” & “th’s” lingered in the air, “and god I wish I would have listened.”

My words were gone. I stood silent, not knowing what to say, where to console, or how to encourage.

“But you know”, he said looking at me, “we sure had fun.”

Finally my smile came.

I’d run out of questions & continued my exam in silence. Meanwhile daydreaming about my own future, wondering if I’ll look back at age 63 & take the good with the bad, the life with the malady, the health with the sickness; wondering if I’ll cherish the residue of my memories & poorer decisions or choose to live in regret.

…wondering what substance in my life right now will propel me into remorse; wondering how to squelch it.

And wondering how to make it all more fun.

thrifty: the embellished sweater {II}

i snagged yet another sweater at the Veteran's Day sale @ Value Village. and i was stumped about what to do with it. the cut is plain & the color brown is a bit faded & really needed something to make it look "on purpose".

i dug through my mom's "scrap" drawers & came upon this old lace & ribbon. with a little fancy stitching & a sewing machine, i've got a new sweater :)

i'm considering dying it a darker color...but that just might be too much work (& time) for the $4 i spent on it.

bonfire.

I’ll chalk it up to exhaustion. Nine hours in three days simply isn’t enough. And my hold-it-together had run dry. And again, in my usual fashion, I started picking my eyelashes & shoving my sanitizer-with-alcohol-covered-finger in my eye to give me a good excuse. But it was quite obvious, I think.

The tears were subtle, but present. And the remnant red nose was an indication, too. All it took was 5 minutes. But then again, I knew what we were walking in to.

She is from Russia. She speaks Russian. She eats Russian. She looks Russian. She lives Russian. Or so says her beautiful teenaged daughter. And this high-cheek-boned petite Russian woman doesn’t live American. In fact, she doesn’t speak English at all.

So we dialed the hospital interpreter service & held the phone between us. Myself, the resident, the intern, the attending, & the patient. Like a little pow-wow warming ourselves around a bonfire, we stood around that phone & listened to the smooth river of syllables that flew between two mouths who didn’t understand each other.

And very soon, that theoretical bonfire became a burning mess of emotion & tears & fragile sobs.
We stood huddled around, syllables soaring, handing Kleenex & altering the pitch of our condolences. And oddly enough, in the midst of the words, the discourse, the piles of soggy Kleenex, we stood silent. Knowing.

Knowing that her life would never be the same after her encounter with the firey phone, the flying chatter, the forecasted timeline.

Knowing that she would leave the hospital & live a different Russian life than the one she was living when she walked in.

Knowing that the blow from the news we’d just delivered would never fully disappear—the bruises left marked in real, physical malady & real, emotional chaos.

Knowing that her family would forever change; her daughter without a mother, her husband without a companion.

And knowing that we wouldn’t see her again. Because she wouldn’t live long enough to come back to the hospital. Because she would be discharged tomorrow & live the remainder of her short life, her petite Russian frame & strikingly high cheek bones fighting the tsunami of American turmoil with her smooth river of syllables.

Plastic smiles were exchanged. And shoulder pats, with affection. We stood around that phone of dialect, vernacular flaming the permanent bonfire it symbolized.

The edges of my eyes wet, soul-driven salty water desperately trying to put out the flame.

I’m slowly learning, though, that the power of my emotion isn’t strong enough to extinguish some fires—only bold enough to make the embers glow.

13 Ways to Better Photos...Intro

Let’s just start out by clarifying that I’m not, in any form, a photography expert. Not like this woman. Or this one. Or this one. Or this guy. But, I’ll claim to know a few things—all self-taught.

Since apparently some of you are interested in learning more, I thought I’d share what I DO know. And tips & tricks I’ve picked up along the way.



So…over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing 13 ways to better photos. And although I can’t promise you’ll become an Ansel Adams, I can guarantee that you’ll begin to notice details & composition of photography differently. And really, it’d be great if your photos got better too—but that is up to YOU.

Don’t hesitate to contact me with any further questions.

thrifty: the embellished sweater

so wayyy back around veteran's day, i took a trip to our friendly Value Village. they were having a 50% of sale (on everything!!) & i just knew there'd be treasures waiting (you know, sort of like you know how eating 5 cupcakes will make your jeans tighter...).

when i go to thrift stores, i always look through the jackets, the blazers, the skirts, the dresses, & the sweaters. and the sweaters were a gold mine :) (well, okay, so were the jackets...& the dresses...more to come on thrifting methods & finds).

we (sister #1 & i) happened upon this plain cream-colored sweater from Ann Taylor. aside from the slightly worn & falling-off buttons, she was perfect.

and at $3.50, the price wasn't too shabby either.

sister #1 just happened to have a birthday shortly after. so i made some flowers using this tutorial, & made some more flowers using this tutorial...

then i reinforced the buttons & washed the sweater...

and ended up with this little treasure.

the flowers are removable for friendly washing--i attached them to a large piece of stiffened linen & sewed on three pins.

and now, thanks to the $3.50 i spent, i'm a bit obsessed with making these.

would you like to see more of them? ...okay

time travel.

She was scared & I couldn’t blame her. The tender age of 18 would bring new life into the world…not just one, but three; stunned to find that her high school love would turn her into a mother of triplets.

She held his hand tightly, a white knuckled grip on the chair in the darkest corner of the exam room. She was drawn to the shadows—shame, maybe? I thought of her life in 8 shorts months. The expectant belly pregnant with anticipation. And in the process of growing the lives inside her, judgment would be hurled. Scoffs & strange looks would find their way into her heart, shock at the size of her girth & the age of the face above it. Surely her group of friends would change—17 year olds usually don’t know how to embrace best friends entering motherhood. She was frightened. So she gripped that hand of his & didn’t look back, didn’t let go.

I would have too.

The Virgin Mary came to mind. Young, expectant, gripping the hand of her Joseph. Surely their friendships would change, judgments tossed in their direction. The expected visit from Angel Gabriel promised one Life would grow---I can’t help but think she was surprised to find that her innocent “yes” would turn her into a Mother of the World’s Savior.

DaVinci’s portrayal of her young face flashes on the projector in church, smoke from the advent candles below drift upward making a floating shadow like eerie ghost in front of Young Virgin’s face. Just as the smoke rises, so do their voices—young, old, tenor, soprano. Uplifting. Surrounding. Echoing off the pudgy face of young Mary & innocent Heir.

{image source}

Sweet sound. Sweet life…growing from one…to three…to multitudes. Their voices travel upward, onward, preparing the path to parishioner’s hearts in preparation for His humble arrival. And on shines young Mary, youthful Mother.

“Gloria sing Praise Hallelujah, Gloria sing Praise!!...”

One voice stood above the rest. I look up to see a young girl at the microphone. No surprise, belly pregnant with anticipation. Her expectant glow matching Mary’s, her solo voice rising as the smoke of the advent candles.

Anxious expectancy.

“Glory, Glory to God in the Highest. And Peace on Earth to all men…”

“Gloria sing Praise Hallelujah, Gloria sing Praise!!...”

Voices louder, now. Onward, upward.

At His bedside, the angels sang praises—the light of the North Star illuminating the scene.

Lifetimes later, within the walls of stained glass, the choir sings, voices surrounding the Expectation, lit by the flicker of candles in waiting.

Voice boxes open, echoes rise. A cacophony of beautiful octaves.

And just for a moment, I close my eyes…gladly lost in the centuries.

tides of emotion.

Sometimes I become one of them. And in my fragile humanity, I’m critical, condoning, and unloving. I take on the attitude that life is unfair, that I’m not getting what I deserve, that the World, in its innate sin, owes me something. I let my heart slide, my world turn, & my perspective sour. My smile curdles. My emotions soar. And I feel my comfortable World sliding off its axis.

It is during these times, when I forget humility & take on bold audaciousness, that I’m most distant. Emotionally. Physicially. Spiritually.

I think it happens to all of us in one form or another. The lull. The calm before the storm. The break in the winds, eye in the hurricane, peace in the blizzard. Some react by lashing out, the claws of emotion striking their loved ones’ raw; others hide within their turtle shells & prefer to listen to the echoes of avoidance; some spill hurtful words like buckets of burning acid—unable to be neutralized by natural remedies, & still more blend the pain, the heartache, the hurt with a rich cologne of substances as a perfect, smell-good costume to hide their dirty world.

I’m guilty of them all. Are you, too?

The self-pity rolls in. I’m taken away in the tides…current driven by the floating solar body that shines only in the absence of light of the sun. And sometimes it is even painful, rolling about in the waves—being shaped & smoothed by the constant current of emotion. Rough, ragged edges to be smoothed into stones, the process hurts.

And I’m reminded that I’m fragile.

My life is in the hands of Someone else; my years ahead pregnant with possibility. And I recognize that these emotional storms, the crux & the calmness, are like labor pains—widening my heart’s doors in anticipation of deliverance.

I’m not the only one, either. Because God’s grand plan included someone much younger & much more vulnerable, many centuries ago. And her labor pains were real. Her place of deliverance was dirty. And her tide was stirred by the hand of God Himself.

How will you handle the pains of pregnant expectation this Christmas?

…life offers no epidurals…only redemption.

a brief hiatus.

i'll be on an away-rotation until Dec. 19th. limited internet access (aside from email)...means limited blog posting.

i'll try though...coffee shops will be my friend ;)

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!