Some Easter Thoughts

Eyelids grew heavy, but bodies continued to wiggle and turn. One arm flopped over toward another body, and Big Sister instinctively stretched out and covered the tiny hand with her own. Almost instantly, both girls settled – at peace, holding hands, knowing that this reach out into darkness returned with the reassurance that they were not alone.

This simple act, shared between sisters, melted my mama heart. But in the throes of Holy Week, it also brought forth remembrance of another hand stretched out.

The most likely scenario is that of Jesus, outstretched on the cross. Yet the one that came to mind was just a little while earlier, on the Mount of Olives (taken from Luke 22:50-51):

[Read the rest one the Family Camp website...]

and then she was one . . .

Happy Birthday Sweet Girl!

The Empathy of Jesus

Images from Japan flood our screens. Here, oceans away, many of us are trying to make sense of the chaos and suffering, trying to understand what we are to do with these scenes.

. . . the real sting of suffering is not the misfortune itself, nor even the pain or injustice of it, but the apparent God-forsakenness of it. Pain is endurable, but the seeming indifference of God is not. ~John Stott

The thought that God is not present – or even worse, is indifferent – during the tragedies of life, offers the final blow. And yet, we know he is all-seeing and that he loves us.

We are not alone.

When we can move beyond the questions of why (which may or may not ever be answered), choosing to trust in his sovereignty and his love, we can find comfort in knowing that he was present even during our suffering. He understands what we feel because he was there too. He knows what we’ve experienced because he walked through it with us.

And this isn’t the first time he’s experienced loss, humiliation, rejection, abandonment, physical pain, betrayal . . .

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us . . . (John 1:14)

He has experienced all of those things, not only with us when we face them, but when he walked among us . . . when he set aside the glory of heaven and the presence of the Father to become man. Author Paula Rinehart writes, “If we find our worst moments in the worst moments of Christ, we ask less often if he cares because we know. We know.”

When the world moves on, distracted by other more current news, Jesus will still be in Japan walking alongside those who must re-learn how to put one foot in front of the other to press forward. When you feel alone in your suffering, weary from the journey, broken by your circumstance, rest in the truth that he sees you and he is there.

You are not alone.

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We have the opportunity to demonstrate the empathy that Jesus offers us, to those around us. The world hurts for the people of Japan who have suffered debilitating tragedy and yet must press forward. Consider reaching out across the world to remind the people of Japan that they are not alone.

1. Support those in your community who may have loved ones who are affected by the earthquake and tsunami. Take a meal, write a note, give them a call, pray. It’s okay if you don’t have all the “right” words.

2. Donate money (which is preferable to goods). For a great list of organizations and what they do, check out this list at the Huffington Post. You can also vet organizations or read advice about supporting relief efforts at Charity Navigator. Or check out how to use social media to support relief efforts.

Credits: Image by Paula Nelson (Recorded Pictures). Used with permission via Flickr.

Celebrating the Little Things

If you’ve been hanging around this blog for a while, you know that I ADORE Ann Voskamp. Adore her. If I could go live with anyone for a couple weeks to just soak them up, it would be her. So when her book came out (I’m sure you’ve heard of it by now? I mean, it’s still in the Top 20 Bestsellers on Amazon!), I was thrilled.

I could write a whole, sappy post to you about how Ann’s writing has changed my life, how this book is rocking my whole world, or how completely thrilled I am for her at the far-reach her book and blog are having . . . but the cabin fever is setting in, and I’m feeling a little bit silly. So instead, I leave you with this video which I think gets to the heart of Ann’s book – being grateful for EVERYTHING.

Enjoy! And be sure to watch all the way to the very end. (Sorry, can’t embed it – but do click over to watch!)

PS – Thanks, Michelle. I’m pretty sure you’re the one who first showed me this video.

Perpsectives

My friend Rhonda is an amazing wedding photographer. Her images are beautiful. But what makes her so successful as a photographer is her relationship with her clients.

You see, she works hard to build a relationship – maybe even friendship – with her brides and their families, creating a very positive experience of working with her. That relationship then shapes the way they view the pictures and they way they talk about her with their friends. They open their online proofing gallery expecting to love their images because they already love Rhonda.

Take the flip side of that. Not too long ago I participated in a wedding that was photographed by a talented (and expensive!) photographer. I viewed his portfolio beforehand and was excited to see how he would capture this wedding. However, in person I found him to be arrogant, distant, and distracted. And guess what? When I viewed the images later, I didn’t like them. I was full of critique and disappointment.

A discount grocery store opened up near by, and I questioned the quality of the products because the prices were so low. Another “farmers market”-type grocery store recently opened advertising similarly low-priced items, and I was super excited to get some amazing deals.

I have several friends who have shared their testimonies with me, and I have been heartbroken over their difficult pasts and poor choices and thankful for God’s grace and redemption. I have other friends from high school and college, who now talk about their relationships with God (on Facebook, etc) and I question whether or not they have a “real” relationship with Him.

I’ve been thinking about this idea a lot lately: the perspective I bring into a situation matters. It defines how I interpret the world around me. Two different perspectives on the exact same data can still result in two different outcomes. It’s why eyewitnesses to the same scene report different stories.

The only sure way to have the right perspective is to be grounded in God’s word. When I’m constantly seeking His perspective, then I can see a situation much more clearly. But sometimes this is so hard! I get caught up in my crazy life and my crazy plans, and I lose His perspective so quickly.

So I’m curious – how do you keep His perspective on life?

 

And we have lift off . . .

We’ve entered a whole new world today. D1 never actually crawled – she went straight to walking. Hang onto your hats, folks!

Finding Wonder

When I photograph a newborn (including my own), I make sure to capture every little detail – eyes, ears, fingers, toes . . . because we as parents want to preserve the marvel that is those tiny features.

The intricacy of their ears, taking in new sounds, learning things as basic as their own names . . .

The use and discovery of their fingers as they grasp and point and wiggle . . .

Tiny little noses that are just miniature versions of big, grown up ones . . .

The wonderment in their eyes as they take in a fresh, new world . . .

And then as we grow up, those features lose their marvel. Feet that were once precious are ugly and calloused. Likewise, inquisitive eyes are lackluster or even cold. Noses become too big or too small. Ears go unnoticed. Hands are boring. Everything turns . . . ordinary.

No longer do we marvel at what the Creator has fashioned. Features are commonplace and taken for granted . . . or worse yet, despised.

Somehow we must find a way to view the ordinary as extraordinary again. To see the beauty in what has been created, lovingly formed. Take a minute this week to look around you and observe. Marvel. Wonder. Find gratitude.

Fingerprints of the Creator abound.

This post is inspired by several posts I’ve recently read. Kelly’s photo prompt over at High Calling Focus, Ann’s response to the latest High Calling Book Club, and Mick’s post about becoming childlike again.

And lastly, I asked my eldest daughter if I could take a picture of her nose for my post, and she politely declined because her nose does not like to be photographed. I was informed, however, that her knees love to get their picture taken, and I may photograph them if I wanted. And so, appropriately, I might add, I end on the knees . . .

Father, fill us with wonder, like children, at the world around us. Help us to find you in the ordinary, every-dayness of life.

A New Identity

I’m a do-er. A Martha. A go-to girl. If no one is going to step up and take charge, I will. If getting it done means staying up until all hours of the night, I’m your girl. In fact, I can multi-task in my sleep.

All of that is well and good, except I let it become my identity. In fact, I wore it around my neck like a superhero’s cape.

And then during a prayer time, God asked me – “What if I took it all away? All the activities, all the programs, the businesses, the tasks. What if I took them all away? Who would be left?”

I didn’t know the answer. I felt as though I were nothing without what I do. My friends admired me (and in my mind, liked me) because I get so much done. People count on me to do things for them. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would look like if my abilities, my energy, my drive were gone.

And so began a journey to find a new identity. One that is grounded in who Jesus is because I am his creation and his daughter. One where he is central and sufficient. One that recognizes his reputation is the only one that matters.

And amazingly, one that allows me to pursue those passions he’s placed inside of me, rather than just doing stuff to do it or because I could. Which means over the course of the last couple years, I’ve been refocusing my activities:

• I volunteer in one main area at church – our women’s ministry. As a member of a small church, I still pitch in where it’s needed, but I am more intentional about what I choose to do.
• I’ve shut down a couple businesses, most recently including my blog tour coordination business. I realized that the activity is mainly administrative, and after a while that crushes my spirit. I have administrative skills, but I thrive in the creative.
• To that end, I’ve focused in two areas: photography and writing. I officially opened Fall Meadow Photography and Design. I’m pursuing what has been a hobby to me, and I love the balance between creative, strategy, and administration.
• I’ve also rededicated myself to blogging and writing. I recently accepted the position of Content Editor for Laity Lodge Family Camp. I am super excited to combine my passion for writing with my heart for the family unit. Plus, my family loves Laity Lodge – it has become a special family tradition to visit there each year – so this is a really great fit.
• I’m guarding our family schedule more carefully, and I am trying to be diligent about holding a couple nights a week without activities. Before, if the time was open, it was fair game. Now we are being more intentional.
• I want my family to be a priority, and yet before my calendar would’ve said otherwise. So we’ve scheduled date nights each week. One week is with my husband and I, one with my eldest daughter, one with my youngest daughter, and one family night. The months that have five weeks, we will find a place to serve as a family. So far, it’s been a delight to spend the time together.

This pursuit of a new identity is certainly that: a pursuit. But the journey is showing me that I can be free to be who God has created me to be. I’m putting off the old self and taking on the new self.

And it’s good to be me.

We Three Kings

Here on the tail end of Epiphany (or 3 Kings Day), I’d love to share an excerpt from the Jesus Storybook Bible. If you don’t have this in your child’s library, I  highly recommend it. The art is beautiful, and the writing is finely crafted and woven together as the Bible truly is. This version reinforces the idea that every story points back to The Story.

Enjoy!

The King of all kings, The story of the three Wise Men from Matthew 2
[we pick up in the middle of the story, when the wise men have left Herod and head toward Bethlehem]

Suddenly the star they had seen in the East started moving again, showing them the way. So the three Wise Men followed the star out of the big city, along the road, into the little town of Bethlehem. They followed the star through the streets of Bethlehem, out of the nice part of town, through the not-so-nice part of town, into the really-not-nice-at-all part of town, down a little dirt track, until it stopped right over . . . a little house.

But wait. It wasn’t a palace. And there weren’t any guards. Or servants. Or flats. Or red carpets. Or trumpets. Or anything. Did they get it wrong? Or was this what God meant?

Sure enough, in that little house — there, sitting on his mother’s knee — they found him. The baby King.

The three men knelt before their little King. They took off their rich royal turbans and gleaming, golden crowns. They bowed their noble heads to the ground and gave him their sparkling treausres.

The journey that had begun so many centuries before had led three Wise Men here. To a little town. To a little house. To a little child.

To the King God had promised David all those years before.

But this child was a new kind of king. Though he was the Prince of Heaven, he had become poor. Though he was the Mighty God, he had become a helpless baby. This King hadn’t come to be the boss. He had come to be a servant.

Resolutions

Do you hear it? That buzz of energy and excitement in the air? That comes around once every year about this time.

We find freedom from the past, and consider ourselves with a clean slate.

We feel grateful for new beginnings and decide to try something new. Or again.

We have hope that this year will be better than last. And we anticipate what awaits us.

And in the wake of these feelings, we resolve to capitalize on this moment. To do things we want to do. To do things we need or ought to do. To do . . . better.

Funny, it all sounds a lot like redemption to me:

We are free from our past, our sins, our humanity. We do have a clean slate.

We should be grateful for a new beginning, and we should decide to live in that place of being different and trying again.

We have a hope that will never fail. And we can anticipate with joy the ultimate prize that awaits us at the end.

Freedom, clean slates, new beginnings, hope, anticipation . . . and yet my response to redemption is different than my response to a new year. In fact, I hardly even pause to consider all that redemption really means to me. To realize that I have a new beginning. To understand that I have hope. And I rarely even get to the resolve part.

So in a season of reflection and resolution, I’m thinking about redemption. And I’m resolving to do a lot more thinking about it this year.