Southie & Sunshine

Here's two snapshots for the evening. Morning now I suppose. Night happened a long time ago. :)

The first is a snapshot I consider to be the photo that made me feel like I could truly be a photographer. That I could really pursue a career and be good at it. Not that I'm quite pursuing that career yet, or that I necessarily will. But it motivated me a little, and encouraged me to continue the hobby that I love. :)
This photo was taken on July 4th, 2008 in a field of clover in beautiful Bartlett. The sun was beaming, and this bee was on his way to pollinate yet another lucky flower.

The next photo is, simply, home. Not the home you're thinking. This is our old street in Southie, in the dead of winter, the snow melting over the streets in front of each quaint little brownstone house. This is truly home to me. So many fond memories of childhood, and a deep longing to return.

Mirrors To The Soul

This was the first close-up photograph I ever took of an eye. This is the photo that pioneered my obsession with eyes. They have so much depth. I've heard somewhere that the eyes are the mirror to the soul. And I think I sort of agree. They often say more than words ever can.

Sharing Some Snapshots

I realize the only time I've ever shared any photos on this blog was my second post. And that was a good two years ago I believe. Time does fly. Now that I've noticed that, I'll probably take the time every so often to share a few of my favorite photos with you, and why they are special to me.

Let the fun begin!

The words "south" and "dakota" don't always bring a smile to everyone's face. Most people I know believe it's a flatland with no personality in it's landscape whatsoever. Wrong. This is just what people who have never actually been there tell you. Although most of the scenery on the east side of the state (and maybe the majority of the rest of the state as well) is just bumpy hills, there is a lot of beauty in them. Between the sunsets that highlight the horizon, and the blanket of stars reflected in the ponds situated between each rolling hill, South Dakota is a place of simple and elegant beauty.

My aunt and uncle made South Dakota their home last spring. And in the early summer I came out to visit. My twelve hour car ride was made tolerable only by naps, great conversations with my uncle, a camera with which to take photos, and a bundle of oldies CDs. And when we crept into Roslyn that night, with the orange sun peeking over the hills, I knew those twelve hours were well worth it. I just about died gazing at the beauty that God's creation held. Well, my camera did die.


This photo was one taken the night after I arrived in Roslyn. It's a snapshot of my aunt and uncle's barn.
For some reason it just seems to resonate "home" with me. It gives me a feeling of comfort and warmth, and sweetness and hope. I can't even explain why, but I love it.


I keep this picture in my bible, usually embedded between the pages of the Psalms. I use it as a reminder of the peace, comfort, warmth, and continual hope that I find when I rest in my Father's arms.


I'm glad I could share it with you. :)
Love, Lydia

Just Because

I usually blog with some blatant point to get across. Today, I feel like blogging just because. Right now I'm blogging for a few "just becauses." Just because--I have a pretty hefty research paper due after this short break comes to a close, and I feel like procrastinating for a few more minutes. Just because--I'm on break! Just because,--a beautiful fall day in the south inspires blogging much moreso than a writing a paper.

And just because--
I need to thank God.
For all the ways he has been good to me.
For all the ways he has blessed me.
For all the things he has given me.
For all the things I don't deserve and receive anyway.

I'm constantly reminded how many meaningless things I center my life around. I focus on the things that make me want more--that make me restless and continually unsatisfied--instead of rejoicing in the good and beautiful things that God has blessed me with. I've come to realize how incessant I am--I never stop! I never stop finding ways to be discontented. I never stop finding things I "need." I never stop just to be still. I never stop to enjoy things anymore. There's always something better that I need to attain.

And I have to keep reminding myself that I'm never going to get it all. There will always be something more. For the rest of my life, there will always be "a better life." There will always be "a better me." But if I don't stop wishing for the things I don't have, I'll never be happy with what I do have. It's all pretty black and white I suppose. But always easier said than done. I have a lot of progress to make. 

To end--a great quote from the Greek stoic philosopher Epictetus:

"He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has."

Huh. I guess I made a point after all.

Mortal

Tea is beyond that word we call "soothing." I think it is almost a consolation. That is, if it is a well brewed cup of tea. It reassures the soul that life is, in fact, okay. And that in our state of being lost in ourselves and uncertain of which direction is north, we can still trust that God is holding our little piece of the world together, whether it feels like it's by threads or not.

Today in drinking tea,
I had the privilege of staring out the window before me and daydreaming.
With Bon Iver pervading my senses, things were quite peaceful and relaxing.
I noticed three birds in a barren tree. My thoughts spun a little.
And naturally, a little poetry emerged.

A leafless tree.

Stark. Shivered in the wind.

As the sun pulled the mountains over his head,

the bare tree's crimson luster faded.

His branches trembled.

His gnarled fingers unfolded.

Shudders gripped his limbs,

and each bird, which had been pressed so neatly to his breast

yielded to the air.

Winter had made a crafty entrance.

He had beguiled every sapling,

teasing them with his subtle chill.

And they had swallowed his deception.

Then, betrayal.

Winter's torment met each mortal

with a bitter frost.

Cold gusts of wind

whispered about the forlorn tree.

But each bird about him nestled closer,

They draped over his shoulders,

consoling his bones.

Winter reveled in the havoc he wreaked.

But he could feel the the spring
snapping at his heels,

harassing his senses
with verdant blossoms.

Oh Susannah

Dear Susannah,

Tonight, you made

your grand entrance.

We waited patiently for this day,

and now our love brims over.

We have long anticipated

your tender face, and now

your rosy cheeks

and fragile features

leave us speechless.

We have waited to hear your

little cry, and now we marvel

at it's might. 

And here you are.

Welcome to this new world. :)

The Wait

Our faces kiss the doors.

As breath escapes lungs,

excitement suffocates the air.

At last, our colors bustle through the portico.

We flit about on tiptoes.

Missing

Leaving is not the hardest part. Neither is getting used to a new environment. Making the world around me a familiar place is not hard. Nurturing new friendships is, challenging yes, but not necessarily hard. Learning how to grow in my faith and being challenged to live consciously as a Christian and reflect Christ through my actions daily--that is difficult.

But perhaps for me, the hardest thing in the process of transition is missing what I used to know. Everything that I held dear, and yet took for granted because it was normal. Because it was routine. Because it was just life. It's so hard to understand what it is that causes us to lessen the meaning of the things most dear to us. To be numb and unable to realize the true value that things have until we lose them. Or, in this case, are truly separated from them for a time.

I was so ready to leave home. I don't know many teenagers who aren't ready to be on their own. And I know the passion to be independent is so strong when we're young. I know that passion--to prove to the world who we are, and the potential we have. But if I can say anything in hopes of making an impact on my generation, especially those right behind me--don't live in the mindset that you're already gone. Take time to enjoy everything around you. Don't take for granted the advice you receive, no matter how much you want to tune it out. Don't take lightly the friendships you have--the effort you put into maintaining friendships says volumes of your commitment to anything. Don't believe that the only true friends you'll ever have are the ones that you meet when you're on your own. The way you look at friendships now is the way you'll see them when you're on your own as well.

College won't make you a completely different person. You will grow. You will be challenged. But you will still be you.

One semester cools you down quite a bit. Wisdom kicks in and you finally realize the reality of your responsibility, and time, and finally what true independence is. Yes, it's humbling. It's frustrating when that time comes, and you realize everything you've wasted, and the meaning that every piece of advice you were ever given holds. Everything becomes crystal clear. As hard as it is to get to that place of realization, it is also where we take hold of our responsibilities and our maturity grows.

It is important to remember that things won't change magically without making a hard effort. If you sit back and relax, things in the future will be exactly as they are now. If you want to see changes in yourself, and accomplish certain things, that starts now. You are who you are becoming.

In missing the things I used to know, I am learning how to cherish and take advantage of all the wisdom and advice that I am being offered at college. This is more than just teachers and classes. This is more than just bible studies and weekly prayer meetings. This is being confronted with hard things. This is being challenged to live in a manner worthy of Christ. This is learning how to pray, how to listen, how to encourage, how to speak, how to walk, how to be still, and ultimately how to love. This is a time that will transform who you are for the rest of your life.

I know that I will miss it when it has come and gone. But instead of having to come to the realization that I missed out on things and took for granted the opportunities I had to learn, I want to look back and treasure the things I have taken away from college. To see all the ways I've grown and all the things I've learned, and to smile at who I have become, but more importantly, all the ways God is working in my life, and who he still working in.

I don't want to miss out on who I'm becoming.

An Innocent Jealousy

The moon lay still
against his starlit quilt,
and on his face,
a forlorn look appeared.

The ground below lay silent,
no inch untouched
by his desolate light.

As he mournfully watched,
each blade of grass
shed a tear for the sleeping sun.

His cold grey face grew solemn,
as a innocent jealousy arose.

For each piercing drop of dew
in the corners of their eyes
bled dry his dignity.

“Oh! What grievance
do I merit,” said he,
“That the sun hold a
more noble rank in the heavens?”

“For we were made
but with one intention--
to illuminate each moment.
He to ignite the day,
and I to enliven the night.”

The Sun

When the sun awakes,
gold meets every face.

When the sun blushes,
a symphony of smiles appears.

When the sun speaks,
our eyes stir and enliven dreams.

When the sun hides,
we only search for the corner of his smile again.

When the sun rubs his sleepy eyes,
we stand speechless.

His painted array crowns the skies.

And when the sun lays down his head,
we feel the draft of darkness.

We meet the disconcerting chill of nightfall,
But then the moon awakes.