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Nightwoods (part 1)

these were taken in the same session as the first Lumens photos, deep into a night of insomnia. for me, they suggest imagery from a dream that takes place in the woods.




Lumens (part 1)

these are the first in what i hope is a continuing series of photos with the theme of light in spite of darkness.



Remember?

remember when you were a little kid and you found pleasure in the simplest things and you were allowed to use your imagination and to be afraid and to freely express disappointment and pain and there were no complicated details to keep track of and you only had two responsibilities (eat your vegetables and make your bed) and romantic relationships consisted solely of handwritten notes passed during class with stolen smiles and all your best friends lived down the street and something as arbitrary as a pile of leaves would entertain you for hours and there were only three possible grades on your report card (E for Excellent, S for Satisfactory, and U for Unsatisfactory) and money management meant not losing your lunch money and things like affection and faith came so easy and crying was just as accepted as laughing and you had way more questions than answers and you were so full of potential and it just didn't matter how many "ands" you used because you didn't even know what a run-on sentence was? i remember that.

the funny thing about being a grown up is that i can't really pinpoint the time when i became one. oh sure, there have been discernable turning points, like graduations and relocations and career beginnings but there was never really an instant when i consciously acknowledged my grown-up-itude. i guess i've drifted to the deep end of the pool without even realizing it. apparently i've been perfectly fine here in the deep end for awhile and i know i still will be. but sometimes i just want to put the floaties on and be a shallow-ender again, if only to make sure i don't forget how simple the truth can be.

Sorrow & Love

it is a monday of mixed emotions. is there such a thing as melancholic joy? i think there must be. i feel it strongest when i'm dwelling on the cross. yesterday, during communion, i couldn't keep from shedding tears. although tears are an extreme rarity for me, this isn't the first time they've come when observing communion. they're never tears of sadness or personal anguish. instead, they are tears of overwhelming humility. they are tears of a thankfulness that seems inadequate. they are tears that beg for God to break me. they are tears salted with unending hope and consuming joy. they are the natural outpouring of being so wholly fulfilled in spite of a spirit that deserves nothing more than the emptiness it often chases.

Awkward and Glorious Movement

most of the time, i'm afraid that i take just about everything truly good for granted. but occasionally the weight of God's blessings in my life comes crashing down on me like a tidal wave that pours into my heart and washes away whatever unfounded joylessness was clinging to the ventricle walls. i spent part of last weekend in ohio and was reminded of just how absurdly awesome my family is. within the next couple of weeks i'll get to be with old friends who are some of the best people ever and lately i've been enjoying the development of new friendships as well. and still all of that is merely a byproduct of the blessing of Grace and the relationship that matters most...the one that feeds and inspires all of the others. it's times like this that i'm ashamed of my sometimes extreme cynicism and lack of patience.