Category Archives: faith

If you are on welfare …

you are worthless.  Worthless.  How sad is it that, in a country where the poverty level is well above what it should be and people work as hard as they can but can’t feed their family are considered outcasts.  The very lowest of the low, the sewer of humanity.  These kinds of judgements can only come from those who have never found themselves in a place that leaves them with no choice but to depend on someone to help them.  I do not even try to speak for everyone who has found themselves in the welfare system, only myself, and I find it to be very hurtful to know that instead of prayers for improvement, I found only shame and humiliation.  There is nothing worse than being in the grocery line and having to present the cashier with food stamps.  The look is always the same.  A frowning look that says I am mooching off of everyone else who works for a living.  Well, listen up, folks.  I was working for a living, but was somehow unable to provide food for my daughter.  I could have taken up a life of crime or prostitution, but it seemed to be more in line with my beliefs to call on help from others.  I never once presented the food stamps at any store when the cashier didn’t find some reason to make it public that I was a loser, a freeloader and someone to be chastised to need help.

It shouldn’t be shameful to need help and it should not cause humiliation to ask for it.  As with any other system in the world, there will be people who abuse it, but in the grand scheme of things, I like to think that folks are doing the best they can.  Just because you haven’t found yourself out of work, widowed or devastated by an accident or injury does not give you the right to be judge an jury.  Not all things fit into a single, four-sided box.  It is not possible to know what one person experiences unless you take the time to ask, or better yet, walk a ways with them to see what they experience in a single day.

I see people every day who have to decide whether they will buy food or pay for medications that will keep them from dying.  They have to choose whether to pay their electric bill and have heat or buy food for their family.  It makes me angry to think that in a country as rich as the one we live in that here are many who will die themselves because they chose to spend their money on food for their children than to be ostracized for applying for food stamps.  It makes me angry to know that people who call themselves “Christians” turn their back on people in need just because they decide to judge them by their own standards.

When Jesus spent time with the people, he didn’t spend it with the ones who could afford everything they needed.  He spent it with the hurting, the desperate, the poor, the sick and the outcasts.  It pleases me to know, that were I alive in Jesus’ time, He would have spent time with me.

Romans 14:22 ~ Have you faith? have it to yourself before God. Happy is he that condemns not himself in that thing which he allows.

What can you do …

when you are trapped between that realm of normalcy and  insanity?   A tough question with no easy answer.  After  years of battling hours, days, even weeks of rapid cycling, I still have nothing to offer.  When those times come about, it seems that we, as beings, cease to belong to the world around us.  Everything is distorted and there is no orientation or order to any of it.  It comes down to the ability to realize what is happening and take it, as much as possible, in stride, until it passes.  I’m sure there are many people who have no idea what “rapid cycling” is and do not recognize it when people they know are going through it.  To the “normal” person, it looks like acting out or even attention seeking behavior.  Without knowledge of the situation, it would seem, and aptly so, that the person you know has become someone that you cannot comprehend.  I suppose, without actually meaning to be, this post is as much for the people who cannot fathom a place of uncertainty,  and downright dubiety than for those of us who know it more intimately than we would like.

Rapid cycling is a real and, most often, a permanent thing.  I am blessed to only have this occur once or twice a year; not so in my youth as it would happen two or three times per month and could, in the worst of times, last a week or more.   It is not uncommon for rapid cycling to last for months or even a year, but for the rest of us, the lucky ones,  rapid cycling comes with little or no trigger and can last as little as four hours.  The mood swings are awesome and completely, enigmatically  exhausting.  By the time it is over, I usually feel like I have been ran over by a very large, heavily loaded truck.  My brain is foggy, my senses slow and my reflexes, at least for a short time, are nonexistent.  In the grand scheme of things, it is not dissimilar to a seizure that lasts for hours.  Right and wrong seem to meld seamlessly and, from previous experience, it is most important to try to maintain control during one of these episodes.  After all these years, I have learned the warning signs and work very hard to isolate myself, as much as possible, until it has ran its course.

I know, without reservation, that there are others who feel the same way.  It makes me feel extremely vulnerable to speak of such things, but one person’s experience can often mean the difference between making or breaking to someone who feels the devastating, overwhelming range of emotions that define who we are at a given time.  Everyone experiences, at some point, sadness and joy, but this goes beyond that.  It is joy that is so inexplicable that jubilant takes a back seat; sadness that threatens our very being and, in the midst, every conceivable emotion in between.

I subscribe to the supposition that most adults have, at this point, learned to recognize the warning signs and may even be able to pinpoint the triggers; for that reason, this post is not directed to you.  It is directed to younger people who have thoughts and feelings that they cannot understand and find that, when trying to describe it, the people they love and trust do not understand.  It is important to know that it is likely that they will never truly understand.  They will accept you, humor you, try to get you, but unless they have experienced the phenomenon, they will not ever really and truly know what you speak of.  BUT … that doesn’t mean that there aren’t people who do.

Look inside yourself, learn to know the warning signs and be aware of the consequences of rash and often, irrational choices.  Even when you feel out of control, at the core, you are in control.  The decisions and choices you make, the roads you take, the destinations you choose will all define who you are in the end.  Just because you have moments of weakness doesn’t give you free reign to make poor choices.  It is of inimitable importance that one understands the state they are in and realizes that the choices they would normally make are much, much more complicated during this time.

If I can do nothing else, I encourage everyone to learn about rapid cycling so that when faced with it, whether personally or through someone they know and love, they will understand that it isn’t something that can fixed by advice.  It can’t be fixed by instruction or direction and it has no understanding of “buckling down”.

It just is.  And, as quickly as it comes, it will end.  Have faith that God will not let you destroy yourself and know, with certainty, that this too, shall pass.  I tell you this from experience so that  you, whoever you are, will know that you are not alone.

I believe in an Awesome God and know that the experiences and trials we face will help us help others.  If I didn’t believe in God and the unshakable Spirit of Christ, then I would be certain that I was cursed.  But I am not cursed, I am me and I will make the very best of it that I can.  Be encouraged and then encourage others.  Your life will be richer for it.

A Moment of Truth

Today was a learning experience for me; a day of growth, both emotionally and spiritually.  Everyone has them from time to time, often when they don’t really understand what just happened.  Before a couple of weeks ago, I’m not sure I would have understood what happened.   I have, after all, spent the biggest part of my life up to now battling, and more often than not, losing to, my insecurities.  As a child I hid behind the shelter that my younger, more athletic, attention-seeking sister provided.  She was bigger than life and the focus and attention was always on her, leaving me to bask in obscurity … feverishly hoping that in obscurity I would remain.  But … God has a way of putting me in situations that far, far, far exceed my comfort zone and at a precise moment of His choosing, he gives me a choice; live or die.

My childhood faded to teenager, with even more reasons to be insecure.  The more I tried to fit in, the further out of the loop I became until I felt like a party of one … even in the midst of a crowd.  As my teens rolled into early twenties, it seemed that the insecurity consumed me.  I became a slave to the words of other people, whether they were actually meant for me or not.  Every criticism threatened to cause me to simply collapse into myself, not unlike an exploding star.  I became easy prey for someone to take advantage of.  And they did.  And I did nothing.  I felt so powerless.  I was dying.  I had chosen to die.

I suppose it is apt that this blog contain some remnants of Jim as this, had he lived, would have been our thirteenth anniversary.  I met Jim unexpectedly and the moment I looked into his eyes, I knew something was about to change.  I was so broken when we met, and in my mind, beyond redemption.  I had lost my way, my vision, myself and most importantly, I had lost my faith.  Through the next ten years, he chipped away at the insecurity, pushing me to look inside myself and face demons that haunted me … he damaged the high wall I had built and allowed light to shine into paralyzed places in my heart.  He helped me to find enough of myself to build on.  I realize with certainty that I was stronger when he died than I was on the day I married him; his encouragement, faith and devotion instrumental in coming to that realization.

Now, back to today … without a bit of insight into why it was such a turning point, the accomplishment would really have meant nothing to anyone but me.  And so it happened … an older man that I came into contact with today was harsh, with a harsh tone and harsh words.  I immediately felt myself closing off at the possibility of a confrontation and began wondering what kind of terrible home life he must have to be this way… but this time, a little voice inside me said “I thought you were going to work on not doing that anymore”.  And, after a momentary feeling of shock at the confidence (a state of being I struggle with) that I had the power to change, I felt a lock slide open.  As though a mist had been lifted, I saw him not as someone with a difficult home life, but only someone who was different than me.  Someone who had a personality diametric to my own and not simply out to hurt my feelings.  I looked at him differently, as a human being with thoughts and imaginings of his own and I no longer felt the need to ball up and cry.  I smiled at him and conversed regularly in the face of his demonstrative behavior and he smiled back.  He was not out to get me, didn’t hate me and had no idea that he had the power to hurt me; he was just an old man being all he knew to be.  And I didn’t internalize it this time.  The insecurity that sometimes threatens to suffocate me took a serious hit.

There will be many who read this that will have no understanding of such emotions as insecurity and the lack of confidence that is evident here; those of you who are self-assured and confident and have been since the beginning.  There are some, though, and those are the ones I write to, that will.  I found out today that I do have the power to control my emotions to some extent by searching for what I didn’t see before.  The humanness of us all.  What an intoxicating feeling to know that there is still more to learn about myself and,  gloriously exciting, how anxious I am to learn it.  I am thankful, as always, to a loving God who shows me what I need to know to be useful in the places He intends to send me.  I wait with bated breath to see what comes next …

Isaiah 42:3 ~ A bruised reed shall He not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench: he shall bring forth judgment to truth

Power and Beauty …

a potent combination.  Today, when I came home from work after wishing for hours that I could be outside enjoying this incredibly beautiful October day, I stopped by the mailbox.  I’m a slacker in the worst way when it comes to the day-to-day things that people do on a regular basis, like checking mail.  I’m sure that the mail carrier truly believes that nobody actually lives at the address where they leave mail but that somebody just comes by every week or so to pick it up.  Not the case the last few days, though, because I have been looking for something specific.  And today, my waiting was rewarded.

It is no secret that I love music, nearly every kind, especially wordless song that can take me nowhere and everywhere all at the same time.  A few weeks ago, I was introduced to a composer that rocked my world.  Before then, I had somehow never heard of Gustav Mahler and were his name mentioned, I would simply assume that he was some dead scientist or something.  He is dead, by the way, but he wasn’t a scientist, he was a composer and even more than that, he was a genius.  I listened to one symphony and I was irrevocably hooked on the beauty, power and purity of his compositions.  I couldn’t stop listening.  Day and night, night and day, I listened to everything I could find that he had written.  It was emotionally draining and I found myself completely and wonderfully exhausted.  I heard his music played by many different orchestras, led by different conductors on different continents.  None of that was important as it was all about the sheer ability of the music to move me in ways that I never imagined.  Lots of music moves me  emotionally, but until now, I have never been moved in such a way that I felt physically weak and uninhibited.  My search for a place to hear his music played by a live orchestra became nearly an obsession.  I looked at every venue I could find within a 400 mile radius.  My motto became “have ears: will travel”.  I can’t remember the last time I was so focused on one particular composer and I was mesmerized by this latest discovery.  There are many composers that I love to listen to; after all, who doesn’t love Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Chopin, Tchaikovsky and Brahms?  OK, so maybe many people  have not only not heard of them and certainly don’t love them as I do, but I digress;  I was no more than a quivering puddle of longing after the first movement.  I found myself openly crying during some of the pieces and realized that I would likely go insane if I couldn’t hear the soaring and intoxicating notes somewhere besides the cut-rate speakers on my computer, on my phone or in my car.

After much searching, I found that one my two favorite symphonies was being performed by the  Cleveland Orchestra in Ohio.  I could not believe my good fortune.  Not only was I finally going to hear it for real, as an added bonus, I could visit my cousins, whom I love dearly, at the same time.  I thought it over for about two seconds and then ordered the tickets. I have checked the mail every day since that time and practically jumped out of my skin when I found them in the mailbox today.

It will be a titillating four and a half months as I wait for the moment when I will travel to Ohio, but each time I find myself discouraged or disheartened, I will remember what, if the Lord is willing, I will get to hear when the time comes.  I wish I could adequately express the magnitude of being turned on to what I consider one of the greatest discoveries of my life.  The sound of life, love, beauty, praise, worship and a cacophony of other emotions that actually leave me speechless and feeling as though  I need a cigarette once it’s over is literally mesmerizing.  I don’t expect the people I know and love to understand this obsession.  I can see them, my family and friends, in my mind’s eye, shaking their head and wondering what in the world I could possibly be thinking.  I have never proclaimed to be a part of the pack and I suppose this proves it, but I don’t care.  Life has looked different since this music touched my life …  different in a wonderful kind of way.  So I will wait, patiently when I can and inexplicably juiced when I can’t, to  listen, with tears, joy and hope, to that which has made me feel whole in a way I never expected..  No, the people I love won’t understand this anymore than the hundred other things they don’t understand about me, but for some odd reason, they like me anyway.  I am blessed, so richly blessed by my Heavenly Father who loves me, and will not take a moment of it for granted.  I will sing.  I will dance.  I will rejoice … for His grace (and His song) is sufficient for me.


Psalms 95:1 ~ O come, let us sing unto the LORD: let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation.

Choice …

the act of choosing picking or deciding between two or more possibilities  That is how Merriam Webster defines choice.  It doesn’t define it as waiting for someone to tell me what to do or worse yet, demanding that I follow a certain path.  It is something that is between me, my heart, my soul and my brain.  But choices didn’t come about just so I could chew my bottom lip and wonder what to do.  Everyone must choose between one thing or another, several times a day.  Do I have a pack of crackers or an egg McMuffin?  Do I stop for gas on the way to work or on the way home?  Do I go the regular way or take a shortcut?  Do I speed and hope I don’t caught or simply speed and not care either way?  These are mundane, daily choices that I make without any real thought or care.  They are the simplest of decisions to make.  But, and didn’t you just know there was going to be a “but”?  But, these choices are not the ones that define me and they are not the ones that define others that make them.  The life altering, time-stopping, mind-blowing, direction changing choices are a lot more complicated.  I’m not much of one to take a lot of time deciding about things, at least not anymore.  If the mood strikes, I just go and do, do and go and let the chips fall where they may.  The downside of not taking the time to ruminate is that I often find myself picking up many chips but it beats being led along by the nose because I didn’t have the courage to follow my own heart.  Not everything is black and white and every choice is not as easy as deciding what to have for breakfast.  Wanting something doesn’t always make doing or having it the right choice.

That being said, it is important to know where the boundaries lie; how far I am willing to go and how much of myself I am prepared to give to the choices I make?  How much of myself am I willing to sacrifice just to be able to hold onto or let go of something that just doesn’t fit?  That is a question that everyone has to ask themselves from time to time.  As I look around during my day to day life, I see many people who have fallen into the same trap of feeling like having a choice isn’t an option.  It isn’t always a case of being weak-minded or careless; often, instead, it is the result of of being vulnerable, naive and impressionable.  Had I the courage many years ago to follow my heart and listen to the sense my mind was trying to make, the path my life could have taken would likely have drastically different than it was.  That is not to say I haven’t had a good life, but because I didn’t have the confidence in myself nor the courage to possibly cause a confrontation, it hasn’t been an easy one.

I used to spend time wondering and dwelling on what would have happened if way back then, when I was caving at every turn because I just couldn’t bear the thought of having someone not like me, I had been more self aware and confident.  Not that I don’t still have moments of regression and doubt, but I have them with a louder voice and an assurance that the choices I make, for the most part, are my own.

There are things that have come from my poor choices that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, but that doesn’t make knowing that I did it all the hard way any easier.    Confidence and courage are two things that I learned once my daughter was born.  I no longer had the freedom to be indecisive and stand in the background waiting for someone to tell me what to do, not if I wanted her to have a different life than mine.  Being complacent, unsure and wavering were not a traits that I wanted to pass along to this beautiful, brilliant child.

Of all the people I have met, cared for, loved, passed on the street or simply seen from a distance, I feel like I can say with assurance that each and every one of them has made poor choices at some time in their lives.  With some, it is obvious that they are paying for them even now while with others, it is more difficult to visualize the toll that a life of indecisiveness and passivity has taken on them.  In earlier times, before I grew up, so to speak, they would have seen the same in me.  I am at a place now where I am comfortable in my own skin and not afraid to stand up for myself, for what I believe and for the people I love and care about.  I’m not afraid to speak my mind and go my own way.  At some point, though not before I had missed out on so many wonderful things, I stopped being that shy, timid girl and became a woman who is more sure of herself and ready and willing to take a risk or two just to see what happens.

Having that confidence and willingness to separate from the pack  is what I wish for everyone.  To be bold, confident and able to stand for what they believe in and strive for;  able to lay down their fear of walking alone and go down the path that they were chosen for.  Confidence is a powerful thing and while I wish I had known it sooner, it is enough that I know it now and I am thankful that God saw fit to lead me out of valleys I led myself into and.  I am blessed and pray that my life will be a testimony to my God who has been with me even during the worst of it all.

2 Timothy 1:7 ~ For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind

What is it really like …

to lose, very suddenly and without warning, someone you love or are very close to?  To put it bluntly, it is like no other feeling in the world.  It supersedes all the other OMG moments as it settles into our bones like the chill of December.  It takes shock and disbelief to a new level.  I found out first hand a few years ago when I came home and found my husband, who was very much alive when I left to go to work, dead.  The shock was profound.  What in the world had happened in the hours I had been gone and totally oblivious to what was happening at home?  The instant feeling of emptiness will always be somewhere in the back of my mind and likely continue to show its ugly face at the most inopportune time.  It has been three years, or will be in a few weeks, since that fateful day, but there are times when I feel like I’m walking in for the first time.  How odd, that sensation, when I feel so vulnerable and so alone and so focused on my own loss and loneliness; how thankful I am that those times are now few and far between.

It’s difficult, in the best of times, to come to terms with the sudden and unexpected loss of someone you care about, be it a family member or dear friend or even someone that you remember fondly from your past.  It doesn’t matter who they are if they meant something to you.  Artists who paint will either paint as if tomorrow is a myth, or stop; photographers will take chances they would have never have taken or they will simply stop photographing for a time, musicians will either write as though their life depended on it or turn from their music completely.    We artists don’t deal with things the way other people do; that is often hard for the “others” to understand.

In my own experience, photography became nothing more than a reminder of what I had lost and it was months before I could come to terms with it and be able to pick up my Pentax and look through it without a blinding fog over my eyes.  There was, I now know, nothing wrong with that.  At the time, I thought I was past weird and well on my way to the funny farm, but looking back, I realize that it was all part of the process.  There is no right way or wrong way to grieve.  There is only the way that feels right at the time.  If you go against what you feel in your heart, then the only recourse is regret.  I try very hard to not do things that I will regret; sometimes I do them anyway, but then, I think I speak for most of us.

Losing someone we care about doesn’t change who we are but it does make us wonder if we could have been more.  That thought, though, should not consume us.  There will always be more that we could have done, could or should have said, could have made happen; dwelling on these things will not change anything.  I choose to dwell on the things that I did and not on the ones that I will never be able to do.  I am happier, and saner, for it.

when life takes over my life …

Wow.  The last few weeks have been brutal.  I know that many people will be able to relate to what I’m writing about; the unpleasable people we come across from time to time.  I’m in that exact situation now.  I’ve been in it once before, but compared to this, that one should really be stricken from the record.  I have 100% to give and have every intention of giving it, even though it won’t really help.  At least I will know I’ve done my best.  That’s all we can hope for right?  That we’ve done the best we can at whatever we’ve feebly attempted to do.

Sometimes, though, our best isn’t good enough.  Those words take me back to the evenings after my parents learned I made a C in math.  I really was doing my best and the teacher, who tried her darnedest to tutor me, could attest to that.  But my best would never get me an A.  I did make an A in Creative Writing; I was the only one excited about that.

Sometimes our best is good enough, but the one we’re trying so hard to please has a certain mindset of how things will be.  Mind-reading is a rare talent, one I don’t possess, but have wished fervently over the past few weeks that I did.  But there has been one constant, one balm, one measure that soothes my body, soul and spirit.  It is the same one as has always been, but this time, it is more consuming than ever.

Music.  It has literally taken over every moment of my life that isn’t bombarded with my current (though thankfully, temporary) job.  It fills my dreams.  It fills the empty moments, all of them.  I have a hard time describing something so magnanimous, so powerful that it consumes me; that the notes are the last thing I  hear as i drift off to sleep and the first thing I think of on awaking.

Someone played for me.  For a long time, they played and sang, mostly because their ego loved to have an audience and I was fine with that.  I have an ego of my own and I certainly didn’t expect to be mesmerized; now, i’m just overloaded.

These are the times I’m talking about.  The moments when my skin doesn’t feel strong enough to hold my blood in.  When life tells me that I have to break some eggs to make an omelet and as I look around, I realize that all the eggs are already broken.  And they just sit there.    These are the panic moments, the ones that either make or break me; moments that help me become stronger if I’m not too panicked or dense to learn what is being taught.  Once this time is over, I will be smarter, bolder and more able to see that life goes on, that time, once gone is gone and that important things always float to the top.

I am living the life God has for me and it will take me where it takes me whether I want to go or not; I will try to make the best of it.

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me ~ Philippians 4:13

Once a dreamer …

always a dreamer … Being a nurse for the past twenty-five years has been an experience in and of itself.  It would take a hundred blogs running every day to review the exploits that happen just in my little world.  But this isn’t about nursing, not specifically, anyway, but about a path not taken.  I have enjoyed nursing, for the most part, and would not want to trade the experience and knowledge I’ve gained over the last two and a half decades.  It just wasn’t what I wanted to do.

I had three goals when I was a kid and they were to sing, play the piano and photograph the world.  All three of those things took guts and I didn’t have any.  I had no nerve, little faith and plenty of fear.  So I took the easy road, leaving my dreams to wither and fade into the dust of my past.

It only took a few months to realize that I had made a dire mistake, but I still had no nerve, little faith and plenty of fear; I just let it ride.  As years passed, the dreams I left behind refused to be still.  It became apparent to me that a dream that really did fade into the past, forgotten, wasn’t a dream worth chasing anyway; my dream was banging at my head and my heart.  At every opportunity, I found myself with a camera in my hand.   Nature and created things began to be a central focus in my life and weekends were spent jaunting around looking for “pictures to take”.  I went to work every day and spent the evenings fiddling with the camera, playing with settings, learning, without really realizing, to do what I had always wanted to do; be a photographer.  I never learned to play the piano and I sing only at church, but those are but ripples in the pool.  It is the light and shadow that I love and am thankful that even though I was foolish and fearful once, God saw fit to bless me with what I wanted most.

I find comfort in the images He shows me.  I will continue to work as a nurse but on weekends, I’ll be in the mountains or wherever life might take me, photographing the beauty that is before me.  It brings me inexplicable joy to be immersed in the feel and smell of creation knowing that I serve the one who created it.    I don’t believe in coincidences so I can come only to the conclusion that this path is one that God chose for me and continues to bless every single day of my life;  I may not have had the guts  back then, but I have them now, along with the faith and nerve to do it and do it well.

If just one is encouraged by this post to put fear behind them and follow their dreams, then it has served its purpose.

I had the ability to fly all along, it was courage to spread my wings that I lacked.

It’s just a picture

Just a picture indeed.  Often times … no, let me rephrase that … most of the time, when I’m heading out to shoot some photographs, I go by myself.  It’s not that I always prefer to go alone, but it’s hard to find folks who are willing to get up before the sun and spend the day watching the same thing for hours as the light changes, hardens, softens, highlights and clarifies.  When by chance someone does want to go along “for the adventure of it”, after about an hour, they’re done.  Too many times to count I’ve heard the words “how many pictures do you need?”  There is no harm or malice in those words, simply a lack of understanding of what it means to be a photographer in love with light.  To most people, light is just the opposite of dark, makes it easier to see, comes in the morning and leaves at night; they cannot fathom that it is oh so much more.

Light has many moods, influenced by many things, but there are a couple times of day that I can count on finding amazingness .  These are the golden hours or, as they are sometimes called, the magic hours.  These are the first and last hour of sunlight in a day (though they are more in tune with the golden 30 minutes) and they are pivotal times for a photographer.  The light is low and soft and depending on the weather, can manifest in a variety of ways that couldn’t be captured in a lifetime.  That is the reason another question always comes up.  “Why do you have to get up so early?” or “why would you want to be there so late?”  I have a simple answer; because I am a photographer.  I chase the light, gauge it, study it and try to gain intimate knowledge so that I can, in my weak, mortal way, capture it before it changes.

I don’t go to a place to take a picture or a snapshot, I go to shoot it.  Maybe the first photograph will nail it or it may take hours or even days, going to the same place, watching the same thing, knowing that if I keep up the vigil, I will be rewarded.  These are the kinds of things that my friends and family balk about and why I usually ending up going alone.  But it’s not their fault.  They don’t eat, live, breath, sleep and dream photography.  They don’t look around them and see a hundred things that draw their attention.  They don’t feel the Spirit of God instilling in them the need and desire to photograph that which He has made. Nothing wrong with that.  That is one of the things that sets me apart from them.  It makes me different or as they like to refer to it, weird, geeky or odd; probably some other stuff, too, but all along the same vein.

Understanding the language of light is to a photographer like understanding the concept of music is to a pianist.  Without understanding, there can only be frustration.  I have spent years studying the art of photography.  Maybe I could have made it easier on myself by taking classes, but I wanted to learn it for myself; to see what worked for me and, as the years pass, start to see a style of my own emerge.  And that is why I get up so early and stay so late and why i will continue to do so because the language of light is one of the beautiful ones that I know.

Psalms 19:1 ~ To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David. The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.

Thine, not mine …

Sometimes it seems that life is at a standstill
That everything I want the most  is within my reach
But in my soul I know that if I touch it too soon, before it is time,
Then like sand, it will slip through my fingers and I will be forced into waiting again.  There are things I’ve yet to do before I will be ready for my destiny.  I await it, though, with bated breath.

So many people  cross my path every day in one capacity or another
Some familiar faces and others strangers, but the contact is there, even if only for one moment.  A word of encouragement or a nod and smile is so simple and yet …  Did I do it, I’m not sure, but still, I am  accountable for what I have or haven’t done because that is what moves inside me.

An opportunity for all I hope for presents out of nowhere, as if from the air
And words escape me as my mind races forward, struggling
Trying to grasp the answer that I know is there before me and then He moves
They are His words, not mine, that I want to convey for mine are empty and weak on their own and this, after all, is what He had planned for me.

What I do, be it helpful or hurtful will continue to move forward
Touching others who had no idea one person could bring such joy or sorrow
I underestimate God’s reach because I underestimate my own, which has nothing to do with anything and everything to do with where I want to go which is where He wants me to go.  It’s a choice, it always has been and always will be.

He knows what He’s doing although I often question Him
I suppose the humanness of myself cannot simply take a gift as a gift but must question it and examine it to see if it can be trusted, not having faith enough to just take it for what it is. But at the end of the day when I give thanks for my blessings I remember to thank Him for the day, irregardless of what it brought, because it was for His glory, after all.

The journey I am on changes daily
As I surrender all I am to my King
But the journey doesn’t end when I close my eyes to sleep
The difference that I’ve made in His name, be it good or bad, encouraging, discouraging or indifferent keeps rolling on …

Romans 12:1  (my favorite chapter) … I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.

~ read this verse, search your heart and soul … if you are satisfied, then carry on … if you are left wanting, seek Him … He’ll light the darkness… I read it often and each time, i’m either closer or further from Him … we are not perfect and Jesus, irrelevant of His perfectness,  understands that.  God bless and keep you all … not everyone believes, but there is no harm in praying … no harm at all …

Lightning over Big Moccasin

Oh Lord Jesus, I pray that someone, somewhere for reasons that only You know has been uplifted by You through me this day … Though there is much I would like to have,  there is nothing I can ask for that would bless me more abundantly. Amen.