Pslam 103...and photos of the beauties I often miss

Basil - 2011

 Sometimes it's a good thing to just stop, pick up a camera, and look through the lens....at those intricate things  that I'm usually too "busy" to see...

          

  Psalm 103 

 " Praise the Lord, O my soul;

   all my inmost being, praise his holy name.

   Praise the Lord, O my soul,

   and forget not all his benefits - 

   who forgives all your sins

   and heals all your diseases,

Lillies in the yard - 2011

who redeems your life from the pit

  and crowns you with love and compassion,

 who satisfies your desires with good things

so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.

The Lord works righteousness

and justice for all the oppressed.

He made known his ways to Moses,

his deeds to the people of Israel:

Summertime Berries - 2011

The Lord is compassionate and gracious,

slow to anger, abounding in love.

He will not always accuse,

nor will he harbor his anger forever;

He does not treat us as our sins deserve

or repay us according to our iniquities.

        

Budding Queen Ann's Lace - 2011

 

For as high as the heavens are above

the earth,

so great is his love for those who fear

him;

2011

Bumble in the Flowers - 2011

as far as the east is from the west, 

so far has he removed our

transgressions from us.

 

As a father has compassion on his 

children,

so the Lord has compassion on those

who fear him;

Roadside Lovely - 2011

for he knows how we are formed,

he remembers that we are dust.

 

 

As for man, his days are like grass,

he flourishes like a flower of the field;

the wind blows over it and it is gone,

and its place remembers it no more.

Home - 2011

 

But from everlasting to everlasting

the Lord's love is with those who fear him,

and his righteousness with their

children's children -

with those who keep his covenant

and remember to obey his precepts.

The Lord has established his throne in heaven,

and his kingdom rules over all.

Praise the Lord, you his angels,

you mighty ones who do his bidding,who obey his word.

Slow and Steady - 2011

Praise the Lord, all his heavenly hosts,

you his servants who do

his will.

Praise the Lord, all his works

everywhere in his dominion.

Wishing Flower - 2011

 

 

 

 

 

 

Praise the Lord, O my soul.

A few summer thoughts...

It's summertime.  That season in the South when the air is so thick with humidity that you can almost drink it. 

Cicadas scream through foliage-heavy trees, windows and sun-roof down, wet showered hair cold and sticking to the nape of my neck.  The smell of my citrus chapstick mingles with the scent of the mosquito repellent that I just sprayed all over myself. 

I'm driving to a bonfire.  The first of the year.....and it's good to be alive. 

There is something about a summer in the southern U S of A that you cannot find anywhere else.  Something perfect, though we all complain about the oppressive heat.  Yet, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Driving along old curving roads, the farmers are out in full force with their watermelons, tomatoes and cucumbers to sell. More than well-worn overalls hanging together with safety pins, and hands large and rough and accustomed to earth.  Some of the men only have a few teeth left, but those teeth are grinning and stained with tobacco juice. 

You breathe in the air and it's rich, sweet, and sticky in your nose...and hot.  So hot.  

A few weeks later and I'm driving to Nashville, visiting a dear friend.  We spend a day on the river.  Kayaks getting stuck on rocks (well, mine did), skin tightening from the too-long exposure to that merciless sunshine.  Time enough for laughing and spending 5 hours paddling, floating, talking. 

Could God bless any more? 

So much blessing.  It nearly overwhelms.  It should overwhelm. 

And yet there are still times that I complain...

...Complain that I am not somewhere else...complain that I am not with someone....complain that I am not who I want to be.  Complain about the normalcy of my life. 

What a foolish woman.

I walk into Wal-Mart, and my hurried, worrying, complaining mind is stopped dead in its tracks.

An old man is walking through the center aisle, shoulders stooped, and his son is leaning on his arm. 

The son shuffles feet, slowly making his way forward.  His mouth hangs open and his eyes are crossed, hands contorted and reaching fingertips out in constant stretching.  He grunts out a delighted laugh as they pass the candle aisle.  The father looks at him.  Exhausted eyes brighten with patience, love....and contentment.  

I quickly pass and blink back the tears that want to appear.  The conviction gripping my throat as I swallow.

I look at my full-to-overflowing life.  A life brimming with opportunities, deep conversations, generous people, loving family, health, encouragement, ...God. 

To my selfish, discontent mind, a trip to Wal -Mart can be a nuisance.  Something that keeps me from being where I would rather be. 

But for that young man, a trip to Wal-Mart could be the most exciting event of his week.  The mere act of walking, being near people, and standing next to his father was enough to light his face.  More than enough to make him happy. 

More than enough.

And I have no excuse...

and nothing to say...

except to pray that my life becomes one constant outpouring of thanksgiving, for I've been given so much more than I deserve.







  

It's a grey day, and it's raining hard.

I sit here in this warm coffee shop, vacuum cleaner buzzing in the background.  Girls at the counter informed me that they're closing in 30 minutes....just as I arrived.  Thwarted again in my attempt at an uninterrupted afternoon of deep thought and lengthy writing.

Have you ever had one of those days, one of those weeks, when you can literally feel yourself growing up, and growing older, and not per-say in the typical sense? 

This week there were no sudden moments of realization, no tremendous losses of someones dear to me, not even any scenarios where I had to act particularly responsible, but all the same, I felt changed.  The sort of change that starts at the core and so quietly and gently wraps its way through your existence that you scarcely know it is even there, until the change has already happened.

And you're left feeling slightly bewildered, and very much different. Curious where your old self could have gone to so quickly.

Perhaps it began a Saturday or so ago during a cup of coffee with 3 friends, all of them 30 years.  Realizing the gap of ages has narrowed, to a point of not mattering any more. 

Or perhaps it was the notice of the white and silver that is now beginning to streak through the blonde in my hair.  Tiny shimmers that pay homage to stresses, worries, and not trusting my Creator in as childlike of a way as I should.

Or, perhaps more than any of the other things, it truly took hold over this past weekend.  My brother graduated from college.  My younger brother, whom I love in a way words cannot express. I watched him wave amid the throng of robe-clad figures.  His smile alight and his confident way of walking...me and my younger sister waving back and blowing kisses.

We left him in Virginia, excited to pursue his life, his dreams, his music.  We drove back in the grey, and the rain, much like today.  Our parents exhausted and sleeping in the back seat of the minivan.  Me driving, drinking more coffee... Aimee kind and helping me stay awake.

The drive was quiet, fast, and we watched the clouds shaping, twisting, sun shining through in patches across the road.  Then suddenly, without warning, a traffic jam.  Just a couple of miles of slowly winding cars with frustrated faces in the windows.  I figured the issue was construction, or perhaps someone's car had skidded a bit by the side of the road and they had caused a slow down.  I wasn't expecting what I saw.

Amid everyone else and their busy lives, the blue police lights pulsated - and I saw the car.  Utterly crushed.  And I heard my Dad's voice from the back seat, "they didn't survive". 

I knew he was right.  I wanted to believe it was just scraped paint covering the hood of the car, but it wasn't. It was blood.  And the red marks stained the entire front of the vehicle.

Eyes brimmed and tears stung and I was trying to pear through fogged glasses while wrestling with what I had just seen. The abruptness of a life halted.  A life that could have been very much like mine.

We were driving through Charlotte now.  About 15 miles beyond the tragedy and blood.  An old-town trolley was merrily shooting down the interstate, with a wedding party standing by the back railing.  Waving giddy and all smiles, the bride in her perfect gown, her new husband with an arm around her waist.  We waved back.  Happy in their happiness, and my mind reeling from the contrast of the moments before.

Days later, I am still reeling, still grappling.  This paradox of the beauty and the gore.  Fairy tale moments and shattering calamities, all within a breath of each other.   Yet, more than anything, I've been reminded of a God who makes all things to work together for the good of those who love him.  Somehow, some way, He is working, restoring, bringing this upside-down world back to its rightful state. 

Oh how I wish that it were already so. 

   

Borders of our lives

"This is the best time of your life", I hear.

This time of seeking, hoping, and endlessly peering through a tangle of unknown paths.  Some as equally valid as another, some…I don’t know. 
“I don’t know.”  There’s the theme, amid a waterfall of questions.  Where will you go, what do you want to do with your life, have you found that special someone?  The answer is always the same, resounding, “I don’t know”.  At 24 years of age, am I really supposed to have it all figured out?  

And so on that note I begin my blog. 
Writing has always been a passion of mine, though there are few who know it.  I suppose it’s a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and insecurity that have kept me from this keyboard at times.  But life isn’t slowing down, and I feel the need to write…


So I will.

I have no specific purposes for this blog, other than to express what many others have already expressed, (and far more eloquently I dare say).  If God sees fit to encourage or uplift through any meager words written here, He is gracious.  If it only serves as a means for putting my thoughts into a more tangible form and no one ever reads them, He is gracious still.

All the same, here ‘tis.  If you care to read, I invite you to, and welcome.

Kara