Foggy Morning in June

It was foggy again this past Thursday morning so I tossed my camera into my bag as I left to drive to work. There weren't many others on the road at the time, which is one of the reasons I love mornings best. I passed this one favorite barn and it stood gracefully, dressed in all that misty beauty, but I kept driving. That wasn't the photo. I wasn't sure what *was*, but that wasn't it. Further along, as I rounded a curve I remembered a particular spot, and so I planned to take a photo there to see how the fog played with the clearing between some trees. As I approached the place and stopped (safely), I looked up and saw this.

One of the reasons I love fog is that it is such a great metaphor for faith. The fog limits my view and shrouds many of the very real and tangible elements in a space, but they are, nonetheless, truly there. I just can't perceive them well with my eyes. I suppose if I'd never seen those hidden objects or creatures before, I might assume they didn't exist at all. But they would be no less real either way.

Thursday morning, much of the scene was obscured, but standing in the center of my clearing was this deer, and a perfect metaphor himself.

Faith is not blind. Faith is informed, and acknowledges the limitations of our vision on any given day. I know there are things I can't see. This doesn't trouble me, but it makes me look harder, and listen better.

Insight works like this for me, too. When I have those sudden moments of clarity, I "see" something and understand. It was always knowable, always there, but I did not always perceive or understand it well. We, all of us, see only imperfectly, but we pray that one day, we will see more clearly, and understand more fully.

May our eyes be clear today.

Photo June 26, 2014.

Good-bye, My Brother

We awoke to frost on the fields on September 14, 2013, and a chilly 34 degrees (that's Fahrenheit), which was a bit of a shock after temps topping the 90s just a few days earlier.

My brother had passed away the afternoon before, on September 13. It was a rather sudden death and the reality of it was only beginning to sink in, so life was moving in slow motion for me on the following morning, despite the fact that I rose early. The world seemed changed in many ways, and yet remained so constant and sure.

On that morning, I peered into the slowly rising mist that obscured the distant landscapes, and I thought I may have just caught a glimmer of him there, peering back at me. Such a thin veil separates us. 

The low light of the early rising sun turned the dewy field grasses at my feet into shimmery chandeliers. There was no breeze.  A lone sand crane flew overhead and disappeared into the distant sky. I stood in that quiet space and just stared… those small lights at my feet, reminding me that His word is a lamp to my feet, a light to be trusted. 

And then surprisingly quickly, the mist rose up and was gone, and it was just blue skies.

We, all of us, cope and grieve in various ways. That morning, and those fields spoke to me. I am so blessed to live where the play of weather in nature can speak, and I can hear so many lessons there, and find comfort in that quiet space. I take photos to remind me of the very goodness that surrounds me. My God lovingly speaks to me in language I understand.  He uses so many ways to reveal Himself to me...  not always the same ways, but always the same loving God.

This morning, on September 14, 2013, He was speaking clearly and my grieving heart was comforted just a little. 

We live, we love, we pass on. Our Faith sustains us.

May it be well with you today.

Searching for Signs of Spring

Photos from April 14, 2009.

A walk in the rain one early spring day. Seamus would need a raincoat this time because it was still pretty cold. The field grasses hadn't grown tall yet, as they would do when the summer months arrived. He could stand or sit far away from me and I could still see him plainly.

He and I wandered around. Down to see the horses. Down to the creek. Looking for signs of spring. He and I are spring lovers, not built for the cold weather months that linger for so long in the midwest. We need to smell the growing things and see the green come up magically from the ground after being buried for months under snow. We like to run in the fields and hear the wind rush past our ears.

Though the snow had passed for now, we were on a mission to find some early signs that things were going to start growing soon.

The creek flowed briskly by,



Signs of squirrels feasting on Hickory nuts...

Remembering a Fall Drive through southeastern Michigan

October 20, 2008. A quiet and peaceful afternoon spent driving through southeastern Michigan to enjoy the fall colors. I was rewarded with some beautiful scenery.





















and then the more subtle tones that draw ones thoughts inward...