tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80526174201176891502024-03-13T11:02:14.881-06:00The JourneyTracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.comBlogger903125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-26332445894219097372022-12-01T21:25:00.001-06:002022-12-01T21:27:00.106-06:00Low-Key Advent<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/52536334972_ea723175ae_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="533" height="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/52536334972_ea723175ae_c.jpg" width="533" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;">"Shine On Us" Song lyrics by Phillips, Craig and Dean</div></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px;">Advent--the season leading up to Christmas--is the darkest time of the year. Low key photography is a technique that emphasizes shadow, so that</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px;"> </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px;">only a small portion of the image is illuminated. The two make an interesting pair. This year, I decided to do something about it.</span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); font-size: 15px;">I've always loved the practice of honoring the season of waiting before the celebration of Jesus's coming on Christmas. It's a season of hope. The Bible is filled from beginning to end with references to <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/quicksearch/?quicksearch=light%2C+darkness&version=NIV" target="_blank">light and darkness</a>, in a way that points forward to Jesus in the Old Testament, and affirms him as the Light of the World in the New Testament. From the perspective of my faith in Jesus, I always want to come to him by setting down my agenda, and looking for him to show me his. My guiding photography question has always been, "What does the light want to show me?" If you've known me for long, you know there's a parallel to a spiritual question that I'm always asking, "What does the Light--Jesus--want to show me?"</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); font-size: 15px;">I took the risk of inviting people to join a photography project with me for Advent--to look for light in the darkness. It's a step of faith, because I have to trust that there's going to be some light. I have to believe that those who open themselves to looking will find it. And as I look around my home (where I spend the most time in the winter), I have to admit that I'm prone to thinking the lights are pretty predictable, that I'm not likely to discover anything new. I'll have to let it come to me. But I've been doing this long enough that I've found it will.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); font-size: 15px;">Faith is like that. Jesus taught us to pray, "Give us this day our daily bread." Hope isn't bringing our agenda to him and asking him to give us what we want (and believing he will/should if we say it right, do it right, get it right). Hope is believing that somehow, today, he will show up and be with us, and that it will make a difference.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); font-size: 15px;">A couple of comments I've gotten from participants in the first two days:</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); font-size: 15px;">"This was not the picture I intended. I turned off the lights and planned to take one of my tree, but this is the pattern my tree makes on my ceiling and I was just mesmerized by it."</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); font-size: 15px;">(In response to my comment about his very cool abstract photo) "I'm just looking for the light. It's been hard to find lately, metaphorically."</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); font-size: 15px;">Amen. Come Lord Jesus. Show us what you're up to in the world.</span></span></p><p><br /></p>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-18602160846286702902022-07-21T10:21:00.001-06:002022-07-21T10:27:30.009-06:00A Case of Stolen Identity?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/52231531481_435c32d81f_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/52231531481_435c32d81f_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div><p>Yesterday a few dear people alerted me that they'd received messages on Instagram and Facebook from an account with someone pretending to be me. It's a story that has probably happened to most of us on social media by now.</p><p>Whoever made that account did not steal my identity. There will only ever be one me in the world. I am fully intact.</p><p>The copycat didn't figure out my password or compromise my account--they just took a screenshot of my profile picture, started a new account with my name, and started messaging random friends/followers of mine, potentially with the use of a bot, I suppose. Anyone who knows me most likely ignored the messages, because IG and Facebook told them it was someone who wasn't their friend--and also because the messages, though friendly, weren't really characteristic of me. When people do this, it's a nuisance, but it doesn't have to be a threat. We can recognize it for what it is, report or delete, and carry on.</p><p>For me the fake accounts are a relatively benign pitfall of social media, compared to the promotion of fear, division, blame and hatred that have actually taken something precious from us--by making us forget that there is an abundance of beauty and hope in the world, so much that we can learn from each other and appreciate about each other, and that differences don't have to make enemies. </p><p>I wholeheartedly applaud the people who have gotten fed up and left social media. But here I still am, for better or worse, hoping to help myself and others remember all the gifts we have. In our own little corners of the world, we can spread hope and gratitude. We can live in our true, God-given identity.</p><p>As my husband would say, "Don't let them steal your joy."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/52230534692_e69eb23452_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/52230534692_e69eb23452_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-19271196728305286912021-03-06T21:03:00.002-06:002021-03-07T10:28:55.940-06:00Treasures<p><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50979901678_587d812077_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50979901678_587d812077_c.jpg" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is the story of love, embodied in generosity.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When Lee and I got married, we received three exquisite crystal bowls as gifts. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">If you know us, fancy is probably the last word you would use to describe us, and formal right next to it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When we received these bowls, which were nowhere on our registry, we felt treasured.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50979897838_536e1c66e7_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50979897838_536e1c66e7_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This bowl was given to us by a couple who helped me grow up. They were our neighbors, and some of my parents' dearest friends. My mom worked with the wife eventually, and the support they gave all of us over the years was indispensable. I can just picture her going out of her way to find something special enough for us. They were always lavish in their love for us and others.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50981114447_2d1527c10c_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50981114447_2d1527c10c_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50980604681_280f4834b0_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50980604681_280f4834b0_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This bowl came from an older couple from our church. They were a classy pair. Not long before our wedding, she had been moved to memory care, after he spent several very challenging years caring for her by himself. He could have ignored our wedding invitation altogether. He could have called the store with our gift registry and said pick something for x amount, put it on my card and send it. But he went and picked out this beautiful bowl, honoring his wife's impeccable taste, and demonstrating for us the meaning of "to love, honor and cherish, 'til death do us part". She would have been so proud of him, and probably as grateful as we were.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50981113972_b154d10102_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50981113972_b154d10102_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50979897808_fc00e307a7_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50979897808_fc00e307a7_c.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div>This bowl came from my sister and her family. She knows my style--we are as likely as not to be dressed pretty much alike when we get together. And she loves to make delicious food, so it should be served in something worthy. And worthy it is! She shares all the good recipes so I can make the good food too. She's taught me so much about hospitality.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50981005691_b0e0463561_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50981005691_b0e0463561_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">These beautiful treasures have been in my china cabinet for almost twenty years, along with some others. I loved looking at them often. But the china cabinet was big and we wanted to use the space differently. So I made some art to put on the wall where it had been. It's so nice to be able to still enjoy my bowls there. They've made a lasting impression. Just like the people who gave them to us.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51010264043_5fb93232d7_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51010264043_5fb93232d7_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50980809337_0771aefc7d_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50980809337_0771aefc7d_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"And now these things remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." </div><div style="text-align: center;">1 Corinthians 13:13</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-17792066346963013362021-02-23T22:53:00.005-06:002021-03-01T07:26:53.719-06:00The Dress<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367868_1700100436_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367868_1700100436_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">What does a photographer do when it occurs to her </div><div style="text-align: center;">that she barely remembers what her wedding dress looked like?</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975061671_76f18cf3d9_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975061671_76f18cf3d9_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975166672_1253d89017_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975166672_1253d89017_c.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">She goes across town to <a href="https://www.bavariadowns.com" target="_blank">the loveliest place</a> she can think of </div><div style="text-align: center;">to pull it out of the garment bag, and study it with her camera.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975061706_3e19813a93_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975061706_3e19813a93_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975167117_b2eea1a404_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975167117_b2eea1a404_c.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975061486_64a7a4945e_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975061486_64a7a4945e_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975184957_68dc980205_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="370" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975184957_68dc980205_c.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">Here is the story of that dress.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367503_94d59a42b5_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367503_94d59a42b5_c.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p>Not so long ago, our nest emptied as our kids left for college. It was time to get a handle on all the stuff that had accumulated while life was happening. We dubbed the project "Hindsight 2020", with a goal of putting the things that were weighing us down in our rear view mirror, so to speak. A <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Organizing-Your-Home-Sort-Succeed/dp/0983372322/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1614140890&sr=8-2" target="_blank">book</a> that I read took a novel approach--encouraging us to focus on unearthing our treasures and restore them to their proper place of prominence and usefulness. To do that, we needed to shed the things that were getting in the way.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367943_94d1dee99e_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367943_94d1dee99e_c.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975167132_97b434b238_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975167132_97b434b238_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />In the process of going through our belongings, my wedding dress kept surfacing. For a long time I'd been watching for ways to upcycle it, or possibly donate it. But you know what I hadn't done? I hadn't looked at it.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975166697_0ff82eb5de_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50975166697_0ff82eb5de_c.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367643_f230e9d5da_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367643_f230e9d5da_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Lee and I got engaged in March, and were married in June. It was exactly the way we wanted it. A minimum of time to fuss and stress, and then married life began. We loved everything about our wedding--the people, the church, the music, the pastor, the hors d'oeuvres reception. But in the flurry of that beautiful time in our life, the details of my dress were lost on me. I remember that I literally went to one store, chose a dress that I was completely happy with, that my mom also liked and was a good deal, and that was it. It wasn't like I had time to scour the universe for "the perfect dress". <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974385988_8e87914fc7_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="370" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974385988_8e87914fc7_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />In my memory, my wedding dress was a beautiful thing to wear to meet my groom at the altar and become his wife. Part of the frosting on the cake of getting married. But when I took it out it took my breath away. Because actually, it was the perfect dress. I know this now. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367568_41bd3abe1d_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367568_41bd3abe1d_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />It wouldn't have seemed right to do this little project without my groom. I didn't fully know what a gem I was getting with him either. I'm still discovering. I can let go of the dress when the right moment presents itself, now that I have the photos. But he's a keeper. I *still* do.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367543_867b7d61c1_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50974367543_867b7d61c1_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">_________________________________________________</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #666666;"><i>Stunning backdrops courtesy of the amazing <a href="https://www.bavariadowns.com" target="_blank">Bavaria Downs</a>!</i></span></div><p></p><br />Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-7855367993834967422020-10-26T20:39:00.010-06:002021-02-24T13:33:03.277-06:00The Truth Possesses Us<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50533474428_4c2c86dc34_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="536" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50533474428_4c2c86dc34_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>In my last post, <a href="http://tracypnothomeyet.blogspot.com/2020/10/its-not-answer-book.html?m=0" target="_blank">"It's Not the Answer Book"</a>, I pondered aloud what the Bible is and isn't. After posting it I thought, "Why did I feel the need to give my resume with regard to Biblical scholarship?" There are a couple of reasons. One is that I sometimes see the Bible being misappropriated in its use on social media these days by people who are pretty obviously just trying to prove their point without having given a lot of careful study and consideration to the Bible as a whole. If I'm going to talk about the Bible, I'd at least like to give people enough evidence to decide whether I'm a comparatively credible source of information. Another is that I love the Bible. I've given it a major investment of my time. So when I call into question its usefulness as an "answer book", I want you to know that it's not because I have a low view of scripture. On the contrary, I think it's extremely useful for pointing us towards God--showing us what he is like and how he extends himself to people who, though they lived in ancient history, are surprisingly like you and me. <br /><div><br /></div><div><div>Here's an illustration of what might happen if you and I had different positions on an issue, and went to the Bible for answers. </div><div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50534356617_512083cff4_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="278" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50534356617_512083cff4_c.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Imagine two people were each given a copy of the same photo to look at and asked to describe what they saw. One describes a lonely rock beach with a solitary figure, perhaps searching for something. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50534205316_0edfc9ce20_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="279" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50534205316_0edfc9ce20_c.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>The other describes a lively sandy beach, perhaps a vacation spot, with people in the water, others sunbathing, and a colorful wall behind. What kind of conversation ensues? Would they insult one another's ridiculousness? Would they bother to discuss what they saw in greater detail? Would they ask each other questions? Could they possibly be talking about the same thing? </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50533474428_4c2c86dc34_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="536" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50533474428_4c2c86dc34_c.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>They could if they were looking at different halves of the same picture. But they would never know it. What they thought was an "either/or" dichotomy was a "both/and" reality. Their separate perspectives clouded the whole truth. It's not that one of them had the truth and the other didn't. It's not that they each had their own truth. It's that both of them had a limited perspective on the truth. Here, the photographer (my brother) seems to have captured the full truth. But I wish I had been behind him, because I might have incorporated him into my own version of the photograph.</p><p>If you and I appeal to the Bible for answers, we might surface some conflicting perspectives, because God works in different ways in different situations. The danger is that we each pick the answer we like, and call it "my truth". We may or may not have a productive conversation about our conclusions.</p><p>The Bible was written over the course of hundreds of years, contains several genres of writing (historical narrative, poetry, letter, biographical narrative, and parables, to name a few), and is attributed to some 35 different authors (depending on who you ask, we are not completely sure about that). So we can't just plug in a question arising here and now and get the Bible's definitive answer, because no matter where we open it, that author was not writing to us and trying to speak to our specific situation. Rather, as we read the Bible and begin to learn about the context and purpose of each author and piece of writing, we begin to observe overarching patterns and principles of the ways that God works. Some are thoroughly consistent throughout, others more nuanced. As we meet Jesus and hear his commentary on the scriptures that were in place long before he arrived, juxtaposed against the religious realities of his day, we see him clarify God's vision for humanity, especially for those who would call him Lord. All of this takes time, patience, and a desire to live that vision.</p><p>One of the things I love about God, as I have learned through the lens of scripture to see him, is that he is not only the source of all truth, he IS the Truth. Objective truth is the reality of all that has ever been and will ever be, material and immaterial. I embrace the Bible's claim that it originates with God and is contained within the parameters of who he is. He has a complete perspective on every detail--he can see what it looks like from up close and far away, from above and below, from before, during and after. He knows every thought and intention, every atom that moves, every beginning and ending. How he embodies all of this is a mystery, far beyond the scope of human understanding. If I could understand it, he would not be worthy of my devotion and worship. The Bible is one of the ways he peels back the layers to reveal more of who he is. </p><p>When we wield the Bible as a weapon to fight our battles of issue and intellect against others, we take on the role of possessor of truth. I believe Truth exists. I don't possess it. You don't possess it. The Truth possesses us. And that is a call to humility. Each perspective helps inform the others. </p><p>The Bible is meant to be read in a relationship with God, and used as a mirror to see if we are growing up to look more like him. He's more than ready to help make that a reality.</p><p>Photo Credit: Dave Decker on Instagram @dsdecker82 </p></div></div>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-41404332476550108482020-10-18T17:29:00.003-06:002021-02-24T13:33:13.177-06:00It's Not the Answer Book<p style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503182412_60cb4a5775_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503182412_60cb4a5775_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is my Bible. </div><p></p>
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<p style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503186507_d50142194a_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503186507_d50142194a_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />It has a 1996 copyright, so I guess it’s a little over twenty years old. That’s about half the total years I’ve been studying the Bible in earnest.<p></p>
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<p style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503182902_83c485fba3_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503182902_83c485fba3_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I won’t claim to be a daily Bible reader. I’m a regular Bible reader and studier. I like to have an hour or two if I’m going to dig in. I do that once or twice a week on my own, sometimes more. Then I let it percolate. I think about it a lot while I’m in the midst of whatever else I’m doing, and talk to God about it. I make sure that I have conversations about it with other believers—plus every chance I get with people who don’t believe. <p></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50502312473_ebdea4e91b_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50502312473_ebdea4e91b_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />I’ve studied it under real scholars, and I’ve stepped out with trepidation to facilitate groups that study and discuss. I read other books and commentaries and resources by a variety of experts (including those who challenge my theological biases) who help me understand what it meant in its original historical/cultural context and languages. The Bible constantly amazes me as it speaks to the soul of every person of every time and place. <i>And I am always aware that I’m in danger of trying to make it say what I want it to say.</i><p></p>
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<p style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503184722_cf6710f792_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503184722_cf6710f792_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />Lately I’ve observed that a lot of people want to talk about what the Bible says and what Jesus teaches, especially pertaining to issues that are hot political topics. The thing is, it’s perplexing the way that apparently Jesus and the Bible validate so many conflicting views. <p></p>
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<p style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503033081_8c9964bb94_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503033081_8c9964bb94_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />If you go to the Bible looking for something to validate your position in opposition to someone else, you will probably manage to pick and choose verses out of context to bolster your own defense. But if you go to the Bible looking for God, you are likely to find that He validates your worth (and the worth of the person who disagrees with you) as opposed to your opinion. He will send you back into the world transformed and freed to embrace and engage, rather than armed to attack. <p></p>
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<p style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503185282_570c52a079_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503185282_570c52a079_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />My husband says, “The Bible isn’t the answer book. It’s the ‘You need God’ book.” I love that. It’s a book that doesn’t offer itself as ammunition to shoot down other political stances, nor as bricks and mortar to fortify my own. It doesn’t offer itself as a scientific journal, a comprehensive history, nor even a socio-political commentary. It offers itself as a mirror, to show me my need for the God who made me, who knows me thoroughly and loves me deeply and unconditionally. It shows me that nothing surprises God and that what’s old is always new again. It shows me that if I really dare to look into it with an open heart looking to know what Jesus has to say to me, I can’t go away unaffected by his compassionate heart. It shows me that only and always in partnership with him can I become all that he created me to be, and fulfill his purposes for me. Ultimately, the Bible is the book that points to a God who alone knows and is the Truth that leaves any “truth” of mine undone. It reminds me He's the one worthy of my worship and trust, the one who, if I choose to follow him, will not lead me astray.
<p style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503027206_81d8dfe859_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50503027206_81d8dfe859_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />So go ahead. If you actually want to know what the Bible says, read it. Read it with an open heart instead of an agenda. Ask God to teach you about himself through it. But be prepared to have your mind renewed and your life transformed.<p></p>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-87869791650633668722020-10-16T16:40:00.005-06:002021-02-24T13:38:18.313-06:00It always snows in October<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495529926_5da1f64d82_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495529926_5da1f64d82_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Dismal foreboding.</div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495527686_e32afe1109_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495527686_e32afe1109_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I popped onto my Facebook feed this morning, and it was everywhere.</div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495523791_4eb6068f9b_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495523791_4eb6068f9b_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />Well not everywhere, it was from my local friends, the metro-area Minnesotans, announcing the arrival of snow that would soon reach my neighborhood.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50494811488_d5fea9987e_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50494811488_d5fea9987e_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495673532_ae6f1b7f08_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495673532_ae6f1b7f08_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />Two years ago on October 14, a photo session had me driving through the countryside, where I witnessed the most magical snow-on-colored leaves scene, knowing it would be melted by the time I met my client. I recorded the video in my mind, knowing there would be other October snows. Last year? First flakes, October 13. Same story.<p><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495526826_694bc1d4aa_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495526826_694bc1d4aa_c.jpg" /></a></p><p></p><p>Today? Clear schedule. When I heard the communal moan, I had a few minutes to get my stuff together, choose a location, and dash out the door feeling like one who dances on graves. But not sorry.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50494822278_815e3b77d0_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50494822278_815e3b77d0_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495524816_740f34f778_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495524816_740f34f778_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />People seem surprised and appalled every year when October snow comes. Why? Because it's melted by noon, and they forget it's even a thing, so by the next year it seems impossibly early and ominous.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495677032_d23bf4fdaf_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495677032_d23bf4fdaf_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495679912_da7873fcae_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495679912_da7873fcae_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />We seem a little more testy yet this year, like if one more thing happens we didn't foresee, that will be the one that puts us over the edge.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495671607_86d7f683fb_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495671607_86d7f683fb_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />We have had life this summer. Gatherings outside, dinner on patios, "safely distanced" time with friends. If ever we were not ready for winter, this is the year. We feel like it might leave us undone and alone.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495515551_68d2643fda_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495515551_68d2643fda_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />When I heard the Facebook outcry, I also heard the voice of God (well not audibly, but experientially) saying, "I'm about to do some serious showing off if you'd care to join me for it."<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495657752_e4206f8104_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495657752_e4206f8104_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50494804443_97a5ce8ba5_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50494804443_97a5ce8ba5_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">It's a voice I've heard in the Bible--</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Do not be afraid."</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I am with you always."</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Be still and know that I am God."</div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495503076_52bbfa4253_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495503076_52bbfa4253_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">A voice I've experienced as reliably as snow in October.</div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50494792358_6401f5a556_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50494792358_6401f5a556_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495656227_44b81c7610_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495656227_44b81c7610_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />These are times of foreboding around us. I wonder if maybe God has some ideas up his sleeve that we haven't thought of. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495509286_8b95728e63_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495509286_8b95728e63_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495657112_92dc79ecfb_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495657112_92dc79ecfb_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />Honestly, I'm counting on it. Remind us, Lord, that you have always delighted to show up between rocks and hard places. Though it's something we never seek, when October snow comes, it's breathtaking.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495682167_ffed919528_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50495682167_ffed919528_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">We believe, Lord. Help our unbelief.</div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-71487348815738485682020-09-20T14:12:00.006-06:002020-09-26T12:24:03.870-06:00Unfinished Stories<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363420537_72edfa4d51_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363420537_72edfa4d51_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />I recently spent some time unpacking an old family story. You know the kind in boxes, waiting to be "dealt with". This one was handed down to me because I was the girl with a girl. It was a story I really didn't want to own.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363423067_33d287162e_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363423067_33d287162e_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />When my sister and I were young, our Great Aunt Molly made us a "dollhouse". Much ado was made about this gift while it was in the works, and Aunt Molly would tell us about it with delight. I was never much of a doll person, but hearing her animated descriptions, I was more than a little intrigued.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362564533_90df30af3c_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362564533_90df30af3c_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />Aunt Molly was an artist with an eye for detail. She had a grandiose vision for this "house". It was to be a mansion with ornate furnishings that were mostly handmade, and filled in with sweet little miniatures she acquired from her sources, most of which were mail order catalogs. She loved announcing items newly arrived from New York.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362566303_b5dc3333ec_c.jpg%5C" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362566303_b5dc3333ec_c.jpg%5C" /></a></div><br />When this "house" finally reached a point of adequate completion to be shipped to us, it came in large cartons. I can only imagine the anticipation that had built up over some years of hearing its stories, and the excitement when they arrived.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362556698_88076d4495_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362556698_88076d4495_c.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div>It turned out that the "house" was actually three large plywood boxes, all separate and unfinished on the outside, each representing a room in this home. Not quite what I envisioned. There was a kitchen, a living room and a bedroom, each with elaborate decor,<i> </i>and a letter telling the story of what was and what was yet to come. <div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363422667_8b6d9cfb4d_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363422667_8b6d9cfb4d_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />With the house were two handmade dolls, a mother and a daughter. ("The man", would be a future addition, newspaper in hand, but he never showed up.) The daughter was, per her letter, "an invalid child" (did she realize the word said in-valid?), who could "sit and lolligag on the chaise". The expressions on each of their faces looked angry. I wanted nothing to do with them. I rejected their narrative. Over the years, I forgot why it was that Aunt Molly's dollhouse was not a source of warm fuzzies for me, I just put it out of my mind.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363418997_0dbef02e12_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363418997_0dbef02e12_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />You can imagine how thrilled I was when, decades later, the boxes eventually found their way to my house so I could share them with my then teenaged daughter. I knew she'd be as impressed as I had been. So they've been sitting awhile, waiting for me to deal with them as I'm trying to reclaim space and uncover treasures. My real intent was to get rid of them, but I thought I might photograph some of the details, like her tiny paintings, to remember and enjoy with my siblings. I was unprepared for the sense of dialogue I would have with Aunt Molly herself as I paused for a closer look at her handiwork.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363419637_be0fb316cf_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363419637_be0fb316cf_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />Aunt Molly was a single career woman in a man's world. I heard her called a "spinster" and an "old maid", because in those days those words were used interchangeably with "single woman". Beyond that, Aunt Molly was more than a little eccentric. She would come stay with us for several days at a time, being from out of state. She was a chain smoker--you could see it on her fingers and her teeth, and hear it in her constant cough, especially whenever she laughed uproariously at her own jokes that always ended in a coughing fit. I never really knew what to make of her.<p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362559088_88c98e3435_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362559088_88c98e3435_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />As I began to put the pieces of the dollhouse together, I gained a new appreciation for Aunt Molly, and found myself wondering about her. Why on earth did she decide this little girl doll was an invalid? Had she ever felt in-valid for being who she was? Had anyone dear to her had polio and ended up unable to walk? What was the rest of her story? It was clear that, though she thought we'd be as delighted about the house as she was, it gave her a way to spend a lot of time and creative energy that gave her joy. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362554158_2122901002_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362554158_2122901002_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>It occurred to me--Aunt Molly started the story, and though I rejected the narrative, it was now mine to shape as I liked. What if the girl in her bathrobe was home because it was a snow day? What if she was happy to stay in her jammies and drink hot chocolate? What if she and her mom embraced the extra time by making a big breakfast together?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363247296_e5f21375a0_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363247296_e5f21375a0_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362557363_9aa71b947a_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362557363_9aa71b947a_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />After that, maybe they'd work a puzzle together? What if their faces weren't angry, but intent on finding the right pieces? Aunt Molly would be ok with that, wouldn't she?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363417947_2fd9769407_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363417947_2fd9769407_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />I got to thinking about the way our family stories come to us, and how we affect where they go next. Much has been said lately about the way we deal with our history, especially the inconvenient or unconscionable parts of it. Is it disrespectful to want to change the narrative? Is it dismissive of those who came before us? Is it arrogant?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363416452_7dcbecbdee_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363416452_7dcbecbdee_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I honestly don't think so. In fact, I think it's often necessary.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363412932_92ac925ae1_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363412932_92ac925ae1_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No one meant any harm by calling Aunt Molly a "spinster" or an "old maid", and if she ever overheard it, she knew that. They were accepted terms. But when I was single until I was 35, and had a career and purchased my own home, can I just tell you how glad I am no one called me that? I'd call that progress. Aunt Molly made a life for herself and was a valued part of a community and our family. She was loved. I prefer the way I was able to thrive as a single woman a couple of generations later. We are all products of our time. </div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363244741_652cc1eda3_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363244741_652cc1eda3_c.jpg" /></a></div><br />When we have the privilege of growing older, we can see that perspectives change and we can learn new ways that fit our time better. It's still hard for me to imagine the day when generations after me will stop to ponder who I was. When they do, I hope they'll feel free to be honest about my shortcomings, and those of my generation and do better as they write the next chapter in the narrative. I hope they'll also be generous with me, realizing I did the best I could with what I had, in ways that made sense here and now. Maybe, they'll appreciate the value of the gifts I've offered--even if they have to be reframed.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363250501_22efacdcfe_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50363250501_22efacdcfe_c.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Ultimately, our story is a "choose your own adventure", and each generation steps aside to cheer on the next. But our stories continue on. We honor those who've written the chapters ahead of ours by writing--and living--with intentionality and integrity in our own time and place.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362553468_93c1b52fa2_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50362553468_93c1b52fa2_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Thanks, Aunt Molly, for delighting in making us something that truly is beautiful. I receive it as the gift that it is (even if I'm not keeping the physical gift). It only took me fifty years.</div></div>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-52973566902919633302020-09-18T16:49:00.008-06:002021-08-17T22:03:19.261-06:00A Place Like Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350386776_aab665254c_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350386776_aab665254c_c.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">On the second (and last) day of our <a href="http://tracypnothomeyet.blogspot.com/2020/09/the-view-from-here.html?m=0">mini-vacation</a>, we went to a place that I've loved forever.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350480207_b5344365fe_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350480207_b5344365fe_c.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">I wrote about it <a href="https://tracypnothomeyet.blogspot.com/2011/08/just-another-place-called-home.html">years ago</a>, and it remains true--</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349628233_d5c0cab6dc_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349628233_d5c0cab6dc_c.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">I somehow get reunited with part of my heart whenever I visit Gooseberry Falls.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50357180812_527e951bed_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50357180812_527e951bed_c.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;">Not only the falls, but just as importantly, the path down to the lake and beyond. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh my, we have some good memories there.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349621733_78bc899928_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349621733_78bc899928_c.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350473432_00b226c930_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350473432_00b226c930_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350310721_8bcc533398_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349618928_d41989a0f8_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349618928_d41989a0f8_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349617723_e5fbf668ca_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349617723_e5fbf668ca_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350316196_95467f90f7_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350316196_95467f90f7_c.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349610888_8c21e5ebba_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349610888_8c21e5ebba_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I figured we would be ahead of the peak of fall leaf color, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350470767_c2893df900_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350470767_c2893df900_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>but I didn't realize how amazing the wildflowers would be.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350314611_2728dc12c2_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350314611_2728dc12c2_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">As I always say, here's to the late bloomers!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349613098_378889d01c_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349613098_378889d01c_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350321886_46219f67ef_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350321886_46219f67ef_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350314101_b32a9ceffc_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350314101_b32a9ceffc_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350475262_705a91d896_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350475262_705a91d896_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lee wanted a photo of me in my happy place.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50356318993_3ae75b45d8_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50356318993_3ae75b45d8_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350469722_ed5a4d9f2c_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350469722_ed5a4d9f2c_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50357562587_407703abf0_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50357562587_407703abf0_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349609548_21ece7d833_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349609548_21ece7d833_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We zipped through Duluth, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a place that actually was home for me, once upon a time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now it's mostly all under construction.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350466137_667c528f3e_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350466137_667c528f3e_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349609128_c94264f876_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349609128_c94264f876_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The seagulls don't care. Thankfully some things never change.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350309761_6628224d8b_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350309761_6628224d8b_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Last stop was Enger Tower, the place to really see the harbor and the rest of the world.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349648243_7f4a2efdb9_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349648243_7f4a2efdb9_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350505417_4974ae0d5e_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350505417_4974ae0d5e_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350503262_23fbb5d1b6_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350503262_23fbb5d1b6_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is just the tiniest taste of the views. The grounds around the tower are also stunning.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50357403166_398005cb57_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50357403166_398005cb57_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This year 2020 has thrown all of us a lot of curve balls.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm so thankful that when it began, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">when the anticipation of the grandest adventure (the one we didn't go on) was beginning to build,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I wasn't wishing away my year thinking this one dream trip would make my whole year worth living.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I'm quite capable of doing that. But I didn't.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Many years ago I realized this verse wasn't a get rich quick scheme.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's a promise from God,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> a promise that he can actually satisfy me regardless of my circumstances.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He can enable me to want his presence more than anything--</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">so that in disappointments, I'm not coming away empty-handed, but hand-held.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He frees me to find him in every kind of moment,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and know that he is what my heart really wants, above all.</div>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-62981476453703530722020-09-16T20:24:00.005-06:002021-08-17T22:03:36.156-06:00The View From Here<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350309761_6628224d8b_c.jpg%22" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350309761_6628224d8b_c.jpg%22" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~Allen Saunders</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In March I was filling out our passport applications, when the world stopped turning. Or so it felt. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350319956_1c4a601644_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350319956_1c4a601644_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">If we hadn't cancelled our reservations, we would be leaving this weekend </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">for a dream trip that I hope to write about--and photograph!--in a year or two. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350329231_308d521304_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350329231_308d521304_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But since we aren't even promised tomorrow, we decided to do what we could--</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">which was return to a place that feels like home, to enjoy the view from here. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350484637_b5701fd4db_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350484637_b5701fd4db_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You know, our other itinerary seemed a lot more spectacular while we were planning, but this one?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350494322_4370cf6056_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350494322_4370cf6056_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Not too shabby. I would do some legitimate traveling to come here, if I had to.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350346296_c79a4d8e36_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350346296_c79a4d8e36_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So here it is, not the itinerary of our dreams, but the itinerary of our means, northern Minnesota and Wisconsin. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350502032_557a4bc2ca_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350502032_557a4bc2ca_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First up, Wisconsin, Pattison State Park. Home of Big (and Little) Manitou Falls, the highest waterfall in Wisconsin! It's just outside Superior. Look at that, it's their 100th anniversary year! Glad we could celebrate with them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350501457_9c74ce40ff_c.jpg%22" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350501457_9c74ce40ff_c.jpg%22" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350341411_ae2968384e_c.jpg%22" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350341411_ae2968384e_c.jpg%22" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You know what makes for a great getaway? This guy. Wherever. Doesn't matter.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350495507_0791eb1567_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350495507_0791eb1567_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He even carries a camera for me and shoots too. That's love. He makes me smile.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350337491_6335c0c286_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350337491_6335c0c286_c.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Waterfalls also make me smile.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349640058_205d62fbe5_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349640058_205d62fbe5_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349645543_c459638a19_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349645543_c459638a19_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350338026_4cbff59aa6_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350338026_4cbff59aa6_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350497737_d2e22333b0_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350497737_d2e22333b0_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349641093_28dcd852a0_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349641093_28dcd852a0_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350346006_b6341ee417_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350346006_b6341ee417_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349642098_534353be9b_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349642098_534353be9b_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350338366_ce887f6992_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350338366_ce887f6992_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Next up a bit of the scenic route beyond Duluth and up the shore.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The north shore. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Of Lake Superior.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349639233_dec86e7a8f_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349639233_dec86e7a8f_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350493077_03b3dc7e02_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350493077_03b3dc7e02_c.jpg" /></a><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349636063_d20a8329af_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349636063_d20a8329af_c.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349636268_5c91fdc80e_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349636268_5c91fdc80e_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;">Not a bad scenic overlook, just after the Silver Cliff Creek tunnel!</div><div style="text-align: center;">If you know the shore, you know Gooseberry Falls is next, but the lot is FULL,</div><div style="text-align: center;">full of vehicles from all over the country.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Our secret is out guys.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349634863_5f468bc8af_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349634863_5f468bc8af_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">So on to the Split Rock lighthouse. Pretty manageable crowd here.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350490407_beea294c2b_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350490407_beea294c2b_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349688223_b003900753_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349688223_b003900753_c.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350334101_f7ab584d80_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350334101_f7ab584d80_c.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350347626_9211373368_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350347626_9211373368_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349635493_79a2565278_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349635493_79a2565278_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Obligatory hike to the bottom so you can say that you're not old yet. Ahem.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350308206_8cf8803def_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350308206_8cf8803def_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Quick stop at Black Beach. It's hopping. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350328451_dbfb7b202b_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350328451_dbfb7b202b_c.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div>End of the line for the day is Palisade Head.</div><div>(a.k.a. Hellacious Overlook, apparently. News to me.)</div><div>Here's what's going on.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350485982_889cb869d6_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350485982_889cb869d6_c.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350545127_767285f3a5_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350545127_767285f3a5_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350333536_978c161efb_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350333536_978c161efb_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349628468_1822ebaf53_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349628468_1822ebaf53_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349648428_5cb4c1b75c_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50349648428_5cb4c1b75c_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is why we never make it farther up the shore.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You feel like it really couldn't get any better.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350325091_a506a34889_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350325091_a506a34889_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Back to Two Harbors in time for sunset.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350321431_2f351d93a0_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350321431_2f351d93a0_c.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350324546_8f1f99c416_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350324546_8f1f99c416_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350154718_51b55556cb_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350154718_51b55556cb_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50351009857_91cf2ddb9b_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50351009857_91cf2ddb9b_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And feeding time.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350483167_1404882758_c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="799" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50350483167_1404882758_c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And sleep.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The rest of the story is coming soon.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Until then, I'm reminding myself (pretty much daily)</div><div style="text-align: center;">to focus not so much on what I can't do,</div><div style="text-align: center;">but on what I can do.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The view from here is pretty good.</div></div>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-75283082216863158192020-08-21T14:22:00.004-06:002020-08-24T19:33:20.525-06:00Owning Your Photo Session<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50252779787/" title="DSC_3244"><img alt="DSC_3244" height="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50252779787_66e3b637b8_c.jpg" width="534" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">Once upon a time (i.e. yesterday), there was a girl who owned her photo session.</p><p style="text-align: center;">She said yes to a planning meeting with me, in which I asked her, "What are you envisioning?"</p><p style="text-align: center;">"Flowers!" she replied. "And also, fields."</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230320162/" title="DSC_1086"><img alt="DSC_1086" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230320162_59c6936c07_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">"Flowers!" I thought. "I love them too!" </p><p style="text-align: left;">So I suggested <a href="http://tracypnothomeyet.blogspot.com/2020/08/in-garden.html?m=0">my favorite garden</a>, because it has all these beautiful flowers. And also an adjacent field. The best of both worlds! We scheduled it. I mentioned to her that if she happened to be a Pinterest fan, she might start a board with photos she liked and share it with me. Which she did. It looked like this:</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50251939743/" title="Pinterest Example"><img alt="Pinterest Example" height="500" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50251939743_39a4c481f8_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: left;">Not at all like the garden I recommended. Rather, wildflowers and a lot of grasses, with glowy light. And also dogs.</p><p style="text-align: left;">I looked hard at her board, and emailed her a few photos of the flowers and fields in my mind's eye. I asked if she thought it was a good match, or whether she might like some other options to consider. And also whether she might want to bring her dog. She wisely chose to shift gears and go for another location option that better fit the vision she was showing me on her board--which called for rescheduling as well. And she did decide to bring her dog, who has been her constant COVID companion. So he was perfect for helping tell the story of her senior year.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50252598581/" title="Natalie"><img alt="Natalie" height="267" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50252598581_80a2aa4dd7_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>This is a girl who got what she wanted. As I showed her the back of my camera to see what she thought so we could adjust along the way, she said, "If Pinterest showed these to me, I would have pinned them too!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Lessons learned:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Taking time to communicate--really listen, ask questions and dialogue back and forth, increases understanding and yields better results for everyone involved.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. It's OK to ask for what you really want.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. A picture really is worth a thousand words.</div>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-51147294363499923732020-08-15T15:27:00.001-06:002020-09-07T08:37:51.749-06:00In the Garden<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230320162/in/dateposted/" title="DSC_1086"><img alt="DSC_1086" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230320162_59c6936c07_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">I've walked a few gardens with my camera this summer. I can't really think of better therapy.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50229454168/in/photostream/" title="DSC_1050"><img alt="DSC_1050" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50229454168_4d120325df_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: left;">I was thinking about how you photograph a garden. It's a bit of a tricky subject. A garden is more a collection than a thing, and when you're looking at a photo, your eye wants to know what to look at and where to go. When I photograph a garden from a wide angle, it helps if there is something of interest in the foreground and background (or a path moving from front to back) that helps your eye move into and through the frame. The buildings in these first two photos provide sort of an anchor, and the trees in the second one frame the scene.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50229419833/in/dateposted/" title="DSC_0982"><img alt="DSC_0982" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50229419833_c764d1ec49_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: left;">Here the garden is playing its favorite role as Best Supporting Actor, providing beautiful surroundings for the star of the show. Gardens are humble like that. This one is in front of the St. Louis Art Museum.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230064236/in/photostream/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSC_0979"><img alt="DSC_0979" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230064236_9ac79309f7_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230319137/in/dateposted/" title="DSC_1054"><img alt="DSC_1054" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230319137_387d99630f_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: left;">I like to get close up when I photograph a garden. Often a single blossom or cluster of flowers makes a good subject. There is really nothing quite like a clump of coneflowers.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230065936/in/photostream/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSC_0993"><img alt="DSC_0993" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230065936_9d690ffcc8_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: left;">This yellow clump has some other colors and varieties around it, but it's the clear star of the show because it's in focus, and it's the brightest part of the photo. They're just so happy.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230070226/in/photostream/" title="DSC_1676"><img alt="DSC_1676" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230070226_174ff15ee3_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">What's really great is when some lovely creature shows up to tell you where to focus.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50229428768/in/photostream/" title="DSC_1684"><img alt="DSC_1684" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50229428768_ebd221ff4d_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js"></script>The flowers and the creatures that fly love to show each other off.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230293547/in/photostream/" title="DSC_1788"><img alt="DSC_1788" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230293547_8db12f13e9_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230072366/in/photostream/" title="DSC_9639"><img alt="DSC_9639" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230072366_21c7580a16_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230289657/in/dateposted/" title="DSC_0754"><img alt="DSC_0754" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230289657_f4a133a7ca_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Same with water, it's like jewelry for the plants.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50229424493/in/dateposted/" title="DSC_1668"><img alt="DSC_1668" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50229424493_fa712b5a53_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230213871/in/dateposted/" title="DSC_1865"><img alt="DSC_1865" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230213871_4d85dd6db4_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Next time you're in a garden, be still, watch for movement, walk around and look for a true subject.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Not just "flowers". Something specific.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/50230294607/in/dateposted/" title="All Earthly Things"><img alt="All Earthly Things" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/50230294607_6517522111_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-29846640476150279542020-06-06T12:12:00.000-06:002020-06-06T12:41:12.240-06:00To the Class of 2020<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49974796236/in/dateposted/" title="DSC_0294"><img alt="DSC_0294" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49974796236_0fa9183fb1_c.jpg" width="800"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>There is a time for everything,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>and a season for every activity under the heavens:</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to be born and a time to die,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to plant and a time to uproot,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to kill and a time to heal,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to tear down and a time to build,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to weep and a time to laugh,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to mourn and a time to dance,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to search and a time to give up,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to keep and a time to throw away,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to tear and a time to mend, </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to be silent and a time to speak,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time to love and a time to hate,</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>a time for war and a time for peace.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Ecclesiastes 3:1-8</i></b></span></div>
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Dear Class of 2020,<br />
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Oh my goodness, is it ever your time. You came into the world under the cloud of the Twin Towers, and COVID-19 blew your senior year out of the water. As if it needed an exclamation point, it all ended with tragedy, protests, and curfews. A time for everything indeed.</div>
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You have made this a time for so many good things too:<br />
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To choose community as the best realization of self.</div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49975030427/in/dateposted/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSC_9887"><img alt="DSC_9887" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49975030427_b356ae24cc_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49974763496/in/photostream/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Peter Scouts"><img alt="Peter Scouts" height="400" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49974763496_4c219f8e59_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49974763381/in/dateposted/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Peter dress"><img alt="Peter dress" height="400" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49974763381_a80dbce529_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
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To envision a new reality.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/gp/7148565@N04/9S0M1T" title="DSC_7033"><img alt="DSC_7033" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/48980016648_0b899e9342_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49978055842/in/dateposted/" title="Ahna Paint"><img alt="Ahna Paint" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49978055842_bc5be2d909_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49977274633/in/dateposted/" title="Ahna Face"><img alt="Ahna Face" height="370" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49977274633_be31466091_c.jpg" width="800" /></a>
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To dance a new dance.</div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/gp/7148565@N04/1g2DA1" title="DSC_1203"><img alt="DSC_1203" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49919539848_1cef1b2e15_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
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<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49977306563/in/dateposted/" title="Irene Dance"><img alt="Irene Dance" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49977306563_cf117832bf_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49977748006/in/dateposted/" title="Irene Leaves"><img alt="Irene Leaves" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49977748006_af24622285_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
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You've rejected pity in favor of resilience and innovation. I want to thank you. I know this wasn't your reality every day or in every moment. But you are going to take these experiences with you, and we are all going to benefit from your insight and ability to be flexible for decades to come. </div>
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Remember, there is a time for everything. I'm wishing you faith and hope for a bright future that right now is uncertain--so you can embrace the possibilities of every today. Go forward with courage, graduates! You might not hear us today, but we're cheering for you!!</div>
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Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-6581657512920881072020-05-16T09:00:00.001-06:002020-05-20T20:58:01.460-06:00Light<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49900808653/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_8005-Edit"><img alt="DSC_8005-Edit" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49900808653_cd26f6e841_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
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It's a question I ask myself often.</div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49900809408/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_8015"><img alt="DSC_8015" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49900809408_14dfdb704c_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I love the way it helps me pay attention.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49900810793/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7950"><img alt="DSC_7950" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49900810793_9fbeecfac1_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This week's answers have all been found in my yard.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901329781/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7840"><img alt="DSC_7840" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901329781_698da1393e_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Among the trees.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901324086/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7985"><img alt="DSC_7985" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901324086_06f00916e0_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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The light has shown me a lot of birds that seemed to be playing hide and seek with me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901329306/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7849"><img alt="DSC_7849" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901329306_ac1e5e0542_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Especially chickadees.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901329941/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7801"><img alt="DSC_7801" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901329941_206eafa837_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And also--all this amazing color.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901328456/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7903"><img alt="DSC_7903" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901328456_05190c5d8b_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's a little secret I've learned along the way:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One tiny little step in another direction gives you a whole new picture.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The pictures above and below have identical subjects in focus,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but I "painted" my background--</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the out of focus portion of the photo known as bokeh (pronounced boca)--</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
differently by varying my angle just a tiny bit.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This gives you a chance to select your color palette and the feel of your photo.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901639027/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7900"><img alt="DSC_7900" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901639027_8309c28151_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49900810893/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7919"><img alt="DSC_7919" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49900810893_96b0fe87c7_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I did the same thing here. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I call this my popcorn tree because all these bright red little kernels</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
explode into fluffy white glory, and the smell they release is to die for.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One photo focusing on the colors of the tree...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901327001/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7923"><img alt="DSC_7923" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901327001_04433a6768_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and the same photo...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901638187/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7924"><img alt="DSC_7924" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901638187_248db20bd5_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
with some blue sky.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901640512/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7729"><img alt="DSC_7729" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901640512_e66fc0fb19_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
Of course the fans of pink are the real winners this week,<br />
whether light or dark.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901636492/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7937"><img alt="DSC_7937" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901636492_2ff5c10092_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
Until I saw all this soft evening light bouncing off of all my blooming trees,<br />
I had never noticed that in the midst of all this pink<br />
there was a whole glowing rainbow.<br />
<br />
My neighbor observed me moving slowly about the yard with my camera.<br />
She said she had seen a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TracyPattersonPhotography/videos/686346012175834/" target="_blank">video</a> I posted on my business page a while back<br />
and said, "I really liked that thing you said about what the light wants to show you."<br />
She actually recognized what I was doing. So fun.<br />
<br />
What does the light want to show you?<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49901637812/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7899-Edit-Edit"><img alt="DSC_7899-Edit-Edit" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49901637812_7c6767c797_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-22698431246186210402020-02-18T14:31:00.000-06:002021-08-17T22:04:01.854-06:00Small<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552812143/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0599"><img alt="DSC_0599" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552812143_1e1314ce37_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
If you asked me about my favorite place to take photos,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553314841/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0769"><img alt="DSC_0769" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553314841_ed3a299751_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
I would probably tell you<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552820133/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_7933"><img alt="DSC_7933" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552820133_ec5cc7d31d_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553308811/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0204"><img alt="DSC_0204" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553308811_a884e40513_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553550972/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0207"><img alt="DSC_0207" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553550972_8f7f414137_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
it's wherever I feel small.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552820418/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0371"><img alt="DSC_0371" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552820418_2183331f0e_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553552362/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_6156"><img alt="DSC_6156" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553552362_8066b25925_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553554742/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_5355"><img alt="DSC_5355" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553554742_6b99e97123_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
Lucky for me,<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553311096/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_5760"><img alt="DSC_5760" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553311096_d66a8a1337_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553314516/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_2444"><img alt="DSC_2444" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553314516_ff7e6d8843_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552821218/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_2474"><img alt="DSC_2474" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552821218_5de5938891_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
that's quite a lot of places.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552814663/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0077"><img alt="DSC_0077" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552814663_dcca1c28cb_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553310131/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_5390"><img alt="DSC_5390" height="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553310131_c1cf24cc79_c.jpg" width="533" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552810973/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0554"><img alt="DSC_0554" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552810973_1079320d67_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552809953/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0181"><img alt="DSC_0181" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552809953_4618c9c832_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552813298/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0459"><img alt="DSC_0459" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552813298_ca4dda2608_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552818208/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_5538-Edit"><img alt="DSC_5538-Edit" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552818208_433b334756_c.jpg" width="800" /></a>
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553554087/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0307"><img alt="DSC_0307" height="800" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553554087_07af237c81_c.jpg" width="533" /></a><br />
<br />
My camera helps me take it all in.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552816378/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_8264"><img alt="DSC_8264" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552816378_850dcceda6_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553302971/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="IMG_6092"><img alt="IMG_6092" height="330" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553302971_9f31cd3ed9_c.jpg" width="800" /></a>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Observe scale.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553306641/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_8364-2"><img alt="DSC_8364-2" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553306641_82df7dd8af_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553300101/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0813"><img alt="DSC_0813" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553300101_6876d9fe4b_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
See more details.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553301071/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="IMG_6195"><img alt="IMG_6195" height="376" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553301071_ac30eef7fa_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49552805523/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0779"><img alt="DSC_0779" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49552805523_e945e77a6e_c.jpg" width="800" /></a>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
View from a variety of perspectives.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553539097/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0998"><img alt="DSC_0998" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553539097_cf0672c0ec_c.jpg" width="800" /></a>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
But most of all, stand in awe and wonder.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553545177/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_0398"><img alt="DSC_0398" height="533" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553545177_37f6415988_c.jpg" width="800" /></a><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Today I am feeling small in a different place, <span style="text-align: center;">in the middle of the Bible </span><span style="text-align: center;">where Jesus is shining his light </span><span style="text-align: center;">on some of the mysteries of God. </span><span style="text-align: center;">I'm supposed to teach it, </span><span style="text-align: center;">but I can't even begin to take it all in. At first my small feels like inadequacy, not in a good way. But I sense this invitation from Him to be just as captivated and grateful as I would in the wilderness of creation. </span><span style="text-align: center;">It's a moment to slow down in my study, </span><span style="text-align: center;">look hard, </span><span style="text-align: center;">and stand in awe and wonder. </span><span style="text-align: center;">Then maybe my snapshot will help someone else </span><span style="text-align: center;">want to venture in deeper too.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49553299416/in/album-72157713163735268/" title="DSC_1200"><img alt="DSC_1200" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49553299416_ff894efba5_c.jpg" width="800" /></a>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
"Spirit of God</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
draw praises from us</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
here in this cathedral of creation</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
beneath this starry dome.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Awaken our adoration </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in this place where </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we are so very small--</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and yet so greatly loved."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~Douglas McKelvey</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Every Moment Holy"</div>
Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-25733196998017068082020-01-22T23:02:00.000-06:002020-02-13T14:20:51.755-06:00I See You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/49427440898/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSC_0708-Edit"><img alt="DSC_0708-Edit" height="534" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49427440898_840a749486_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Dear followers of Jesus,<br />
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you taking a meal to your neighbors, and taking your friend to an appointment.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you clearing tables after a meal at church, and I see you showing your Sunday school students how to do it with you.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you changing diapers in the nursery, teaching energetic children, and welcoming strangers.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you worshiping in joy and in brokenness, sometimes both at the same time. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you volunteering at the local school and the nursing home and packing meals for the hungry.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you inviting people into your home to remind them they are part of a family.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you encouraging the people around you, not wanting even one to get away without knowing how loved they are.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you letting others know when someone needs more prayers or help than you can offer alone.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you leading, tirelessly, coordinating details and working behind the scenes.<br />
<br />
I see you approaching your job as a calling and a ministry.<br />
<br />
I see you caring for the widow and the orphan and the alien.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you drawing attention to Jesus, and not to yourself, sharing hope from the scriptures and his love from your heart.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I see you breathing life and beauty into the world around you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It seems as though a lot of people miss it, because for some reason or another, they are not close enough to notice. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I hope and trust you'll keep living out the life of Jesus anyway. Nothing you do is lost on him. <br />
<br />
I love being the church with you. You inspire me.</div>
Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-5565930973127307972019-06-01T18:16:00.000-06:002020-02-13T13:57:28.420-06:00Higher<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/48675109738/in/album-72157713072059208/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_3d6"><img alt="UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_3d6" src="https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/48675109738_38186ec7ea_c.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Dear Bethany,<br />
<br />
According to the family lore, it was your first word, that year you turned one. Your favorite thing was the swing, and you would say, "Hawa!"<br />
<br />
And ever since then, it's been higher. Whenever we would look for you, we would look up.<br />
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Sometimes you'd be swinging.</div>
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Sometimes climbing.</div>
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Sometimes exploring.</div>
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It wasn't as though you ever dreamed of flying...</div>
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...it just seemed as though it never occurred to you NOT to fly.</div>
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Sometimes we'd look up and see you lighting up a stage.</div>
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They'd put you front and center, because you just shine.</div>
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It's been such a beautiful privilege to watch you grow into this amazing young woman.</div>
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It just makes sense that you've chosen a college with bluffs up above.</div>
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Just another place to feel comfortable in your own skin.</div>
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Bethany, may you always delight in going "higher",</div>
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pursuing God's calling for you as you follow him.</div>
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<i><b>"With this in mind, we constantly pray for you,</b></i></div>
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<i><b>that our God may count you worthy of his calling,</b></i></div>
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<i><b>and that by his power he may fulfill every good purpose of yours</b></i></div>
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<i><b>and every act prompted by your faith. </b></i></div>
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<i><b>We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus</b></i></div>
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<i><b>may be glorified in you, and you in him,</b></i></div>
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<i><b>according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ."</b></i></div>
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<i><b>2 Thessalonians 1:11-12</b></i></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IosW70RxJ3o" width="480"></iframe></div>
Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-49759358775794867062018-06-02T08:27:00.002-06:002018-11-30T13:52:31.436-06:00Full Circle<div style="text-align: center;">
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It became abundantly obvious that day </div>
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when he stood next to that mama tiger's cub</div>
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that he had come full circle.<br />
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Where this mom had once stood a little intimidated</div>
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by the presence of that big wild cat next to her tiny, happy boy,</div>
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now mama tiger's cub was dwarfed by him.</div>
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It was almost as though she had noticed too.<br />
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He has come full circle in ways too numerous to count.</div>
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<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/41778463774/in/dateposted/" title="baseball8"><img alt="baseball8" src="https://farm1.staticflickr.com/893/41778463774_5f6d693843_z.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
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<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/40693086950/in/dateposted/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Baby Ben"><img alt="Baby Ben" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1742/40693086950_5cdbbbdec0_z.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/42501043221/in/dateposted/" title="Benbus_2"><img alt="Benbus_2" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1750/42501043221_985c38be7a_z.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
And he's been teaching us to say goodbye<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/42449144462/in/dateposted/" title="image2"><img alt="image2" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1723/42449144462_75413c0e46_z.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
almost since we first said hello.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/41598099985/in/dateposted/" title="22519949_1596352400423183_3079430661877387587_o"><img alt="22519949_1596352400423183_3079430661877387587_o" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1747/41598099985_a7a9a7186e_z.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
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<br />
Tonight he graduates.<br />
<br /></div>
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<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/41778488944/in/dateposted/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSC_5967"><img alt="DSC_5967" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1752/41778488944_5aa89f545f_z.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
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Of course we are proud of him. He's our son.</div>
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But this one thing struck me as so appropriate.</div>
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He's a guy who values honor more than honors.</div>
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He is, indeed, graduating with honor.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
"He has told you, O man, what is good:</div>
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and what does the LORD require of you</div>
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but to do justice,</div>
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to love kindness,</div>
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and to walk humbly with your God?"</div>
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Micah 6:8</div>
</div>
Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-59948152321861320522018-06-01T08:00:00.000-06:002019-02-28T12:38:03.450-06:00To the Class of 2018<div style="text-align: center;">
Dear Class of 2018,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We go way back.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/42404887932/" title="Andrew Collage"><img alt="Andrew Collage" height="266" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1738/42404887932_591ce0e0d6_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I met you the day we moved into the neighborhood, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when you toddled across the yard to meet my tiny son.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/40647242340/" title="Ben Simser Collage"><img alt="Ben Simser Collage" height="266" src="https://farm1.staticflickr.com/886/40647242340_77363942fc_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I watched you grow up on the baseball diamond, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
from picking dandelions in the outfield to picking runners off at second.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/41553178005/" title="Colin Collage"><img alt="Colin Collage" height="266" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1726/41553178005_866553cb6e_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
You played whatever game was in season in our backyard with the neighborhood kids.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/40647228700/" title="Roy Collage"><img alt="Roy Collage" height="266" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1757/40647228700_3907d93849_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I watched the beginnings of your football career.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/27585361237/" title="Sam Collage"><img alt="Sam Collage" height="266" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1733/27585361237_4214e33b03_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
You're all smiles now, but you did have a pretty serious game face when you were on the pitcher's mound,<br />
just learning.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/42455379921/" title="Elizabeth Collage"><img alt="Elizabeth Collage" height="266" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1750/42455379921_462fc11573_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When I was your age (and much younger),</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/27585246697/" title="Jean Collage"><img alt="Jean Collage" height="266" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1741/27585246697_bb336b8cdf_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I swam with your mom.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/40647225980/" title="Erica Hiller Collage"><img alt="Erica Hiller Collage" height="266" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1756/40647225980_ec2f1d6de8_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I just met you for the first time this year, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/41732391944/" title="Erin Collage"><img alt="Erin Collage" height="266" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1734/41732391944_589cb63214_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
and I'm so thankful to know you.</div>
<br />
Whichever it is with you, there will never be another class that graduates from high school with my firstborn. <br />
<br />
Here's what I want you to know:<br />
<br />
When I was your age, it never once crossed my mind that I would be a photographer. In fact, when I started my photography business four years ago, I STILL never dreamed I would be a senior photographer, and that I would love it. Instead, all along, I just kept taking the right next step, from one chapter to the next. This year when you(r mom) showed up on my doorstep, I felt so grateful to be ready for you. Just look at all the fun I had with you!<br />
<br />
Your life will be like that. You might know exactly what you want to do. You might not have a clue. But your actual future will unfold one day at a time, and it really just comes down to taking that day's best steps.<br />
<br />
Your college plans are not the most important thing. Your career plans aren't either. But with each new thing you do, you will meet new people and grow in new ways, and these are the things that will change you forever. So choose well for today, and tomorrow will take care of itself.<br />
<br />
One more thing:<br />
<br />
I think God did an amazing job on you. He made you to add beauty and richness to this world unlike anyone else. I hope you'll stay in his hands and let his light shine through you, no matter where your journey takes you.<br />
<br />
Congratulations, Graduates!Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-80947819533218775202018-03-12T14:37:00.000-06:002018-03-12T14:43:02.251-06:00Waiting for Perfection (a.k.a. what we've learned from lefse parties)<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/40731463602/in/album-72157685123063652/"><img height="640" src="https://farm5.staticflickr.com/4778/40731463602_267cc00772_c.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Raising up a new generation of lefse makers!</i></div>
<br />
<a href="http://tracypnothomeyet.blogspot.com/2010/02/lefse-making-101-video-version.html">Lefse</a> Party 2018 is a wrap. We've done it for a few years now, so it's probably safe to say it's a tradition. It's a really odd thing to do for a couple of reasons (and probably more).<br />
<br />
First of all, everyone is invited. And by everyone, I mean I advertise it on Facebook, and we call and text some people, especially people we haven't had a chance to visit with for too long. We have no idea who will come, or how many, we just put it out there and wish we had the time to invite more. This year we had neighbors, church friends, marching band friends, a high school friend, and a friend we met years ago on Facebook who quickly became a real life friend. There were old friends and new friends, friends born on three different continents, plus lefse is Norwegian, so that makes four. It's risky business inviting all these random people together, but seriously, it is just so much fun.<br />
<br />
Second, who has lefse parties? Well, in Norway they might, and there are probably still some families who get together and crank it out. I may have heard someone say that in her family you got in trouble if you didn't get it thin enough. But not at our house--if you make it and it turns out warm enough to melt the butter when you spread it on, it's good enough for us. And if it's not warm enough to melt the butter, there's always the microwave.<br />
<br />
Here's the thing: <br />
<br />
If we waited for everything to be perfect, we would never have people over. I can think of so many reasons not to. Guest lists, space and seating issues, hideous carpet and not-so-clean house, social awkwardness, inadequacy issues (<a href="http://tracypnothomeyet.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-beauty-of-not-enough.html">that was a whole post in itself once</a>), time on the calendar. All real.<br />
<br />
Community is too important to wait for perfection. That's why we started lefse parties. It's one thing that I can handle. I threw a couple of soup mixes into pots, and made a quick veggie tray so people could have an excuse not to make dinner when they got home. We served water and coffee to drink, because that's what we drink at our house. People seemed pretty ok with that! They had fun making the lefse, and they were pretty content to just visit. I mean, some of them have come all of the years now. Some of them didn't even know what lefse was! They came for the togetherness. They got the invitation and took us up on it. I hope next time even more people will take us up on it.<br />
<br />
Our society has gotten pretty hung up on perfection. If that's the standard, eventually we're all going to end up disqualified. It's grace that allows us to actually do things that count. I'm so glad we didn't wait.<br />
<br />
Jesus is perfect. The rest of us are a work in progress. <br />
<br />
"By one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy." Hebrews 10:14 <br />
<br />
Sweet grace. What an invitation! It's for everyone too. I'm taking him up on it.<br />
<br />
<br />Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-29186559331900468682017-06-07T22:05:00.001-06:002017-06-08T09:37:50.035-06:00Lifestyle Photography: Your story on display!<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33199247914/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0386"><img alt="DSC_0386" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2906/33199247914_bb09c5c02d_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One of the beautiful things about lifestyle photography is that the photos tell a story.</div>
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When I do a session, the client gets bunches of photos. </div>
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It's the collection that gives the big picture, rather than one image.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The challenge is, how do you put all those photos to good use?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33884950592/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0901"><img alt="DSC_0901" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2854/33884950592_695d04fa08_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>1. Make prints.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Just go ahead and make plain old 4x6 prints.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Put them in a box in a place where you'll see them.<br />
<br />
(And yes, Stella actually did come and plop herself down there<br />
as if to enjoy the pictures--after all, there she is with her favorite girl!)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
I love having my most ordinary moments at my fingertips.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33884929632/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0419"><img alt="DSC_0419" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2839/33884929632_048b186a33_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Any given morning.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33657220010/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0413"><img alt="DSC_0413" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/4/3933/33657220010_dbfa9a59dd_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My baker.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33912405401/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0409"><img alt="DSC_0409" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/4/3956/33912405401_9e47dd8d6c_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My comedian.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33912410471/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0411"><img alt="DSC_0411" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/4/3955/33912410471_09bf81d26d_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My sweet (and often goofy) husband. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33657204250/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0408"><img alt="DSC_0408" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2898/33657204250_94ce85153d_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That day our kids were both on the field.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For rival schools.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33657232960/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0416"><img alt="DSC_0416" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2938/33657232960_e3a61da6a1_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One of those "Mom's choice" outings.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33199296894/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0415"><img alt="DSC_0415" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/4/3946/33199296894_5a491f7f61_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ah, yes.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33912428601/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0428"><img alt="DSC_0428" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2947/33912428601_bf9affa069_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>2. Make photo books.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I love these. I make them every year. Almost.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They are priceless.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Really, the perfect way to tell your story.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33230103113/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0889"><img alt="DSC_0889" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2831/33230103113_73c361e855_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've used a lot of services, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and I think Shutterfly is the most user friendly by far.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Definitely a matter of personal preference.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33884836832/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0363"><img alt="DSC_0363" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2807/33884836832_235234e621_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>3. Make a wall collection.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The possibilities are endless. I've been working on a few at my house.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33912358491/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0364"><img alt="DSC_0364" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/4/3929/33912358491_2d87674bc9_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I had a friend make this frame with chicken wire for me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There were so many different possibilities for materials, but I wanted simple and pretty rustic.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I painted the quote on it, and used decorative magnets to put my photos up.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When I swap them out, they'll go in my box. :-)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Alongside them are some of my old favorites through the years.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33199234124/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0381"><img alt="DSC_0381" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2817/33199234124_4414b65458_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33199197444/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0358"><img alt="DSC_0358" height="509" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/4/3933/33199197444_9d65f1831b_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We used to play these games at my grandma's house when we were kids.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I made a wall grouping with them, and a simple frame I found at Michael's. Same idea.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33884828232/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0360"><img alt="DSC_0360" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2807/33884828232_190cf4403f_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There are so many collage frames and frame sets out there</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in every imaginable style, size and price range.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They can be repurposed easily with fresh photos.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33230081783/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0778"><img alt="DSC_0778" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/4/3936/33230081783_1e24dc58c2_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>4. Photo canvases</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You can obviously make canvas prints or framed prints to hang on the wall, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but I really like these easels for smaller canvases.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My robin photo up there is an 8x10 </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(I remember when I thought 8x10 was a really big print!), </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and below is an 11x14.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When I want canvases, I go to Groupon and look for the best deal in the size I want.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They're very affordable, and so far I haven't found a lot of variation in quality.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33230096923/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0786"><img alt="DSC_0786" height="800" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2852/33230096923_204b36ea0f_c.jpg" width="534" /></a>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That bunch of crocuses is one of my favorite photos. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I took it a few years ago, and it just came out looking like a painting.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Plus one of my favorite photos of my babies.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
At a studio. Because that's what we did back then.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hopefully these ideas will help you get started,</div>
or they'll prompt you to think of some others that will work for you!<br />
<br />
Your photos are too precious to stay on a computer.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They deserve a special place in your home.<br />
Because you and the people you love are a priceless work of art.<br />
Your story isn't like any other.<br />
It deserves to be told.<br />
And remembered.<br />
<br /></div>
Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-25783173829294036292017-05-31T10:12:00.000-06:002017-05-31T10:28:50.090-06:00It's Your Move<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34846634802/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_6290-Edit"><img alt="DSC_6290-Edit" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4222/34846634802_b787b04bba_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Meet the lovely Therese.<br />
She is graduating from high school this weekend.<br />
She is ready.<br />
<br />
Therese has a huge heart and several loves,<br />
but the highlight of her high school career was being<br />
captain of the chess team.<br />
<br />
It just made sense for us to do her photos at the depot,<br />
among the giant chess pieces.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34094652094/in/dateposted-public/" title="Depot"><img alt="Depot" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4270/34094652094_3a8f816768_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34127260523/in/dateposted-public/" title="Depot 2"><img alt="Depot 2" height="370" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4225/34127260523_d40b4be633_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34937885535/in/dateposted-public/" title="Therese Chess"><img alt="Therese Chess" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4246/34937885535_b7eddd506d_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
It was really great of her to give me a little tutorial about how the game goes.<br />
It turns out that it's all about making the king your top priority.<br />
Therese does that.<br />
Jesus is her King. She loves serving him.<br />
She served him on a life-changing trip to Mexico last summer.<br />
It's all been a process of learning that serving him<br />
means receiving from him so you can pass his love along.<br />
She reflects him quietly and beautifully.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34094658414/in/dateposted-public/" title="Therese Depot 2"><img alt="Therese Depot 2" height="400" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4203/34094658414_77c5f74ba6_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34127234013/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_6215"><img alt="DSC_6215" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4268/34127234013_5be5205655_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34127242083/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_6279"><img alt="DSC_6279" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4276/34127242083_9fb4153246_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Now it looks like she is just waiting for the train to take her to her next destination.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34897428716/in/dateposted-public/" title="Therese Outside"><img alt="Therese Outside" height="739" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4195/34897428716_ac698aed41_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a data-flickr-embed="true" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34846484092/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7708-Edit"><img alt="DSC_7708-Edit" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4274/34846484092_9e35133dd7_c.jpg" width="800" /></a>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Therese, it's your move. <br />
You have wonderful plans to pursue a career that will help others live a healthy, productive life.<br />
Your college sees your heart and your potential, and they are wisely making an investment in you.<br />
I'm so excited for you! You do not move alone. Your King has led the way and is going with you.<br />
Congratulations on all you've accomplished!<br />
I'm looking forward to hearing how the path unfolds before you<br />
as you continue to walk with the Lord Jesus and honor him.<br />
<br />
"Now to the King eternal,<br />
immortal, invisible,<br />
the only God,<br />
be honor and glory<br />
for ever and ever. Amen."<br />
1 Timothy 1:17<br />
<br /></div>
Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-46739570975471741922017-04-25T20:00:00.000-06:002017-05-31T10:29:08.383-06:00Here's to the Moms<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34117268941/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_3262"><img alt="DSC_3262" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4162/34117268941_0b88538c2e_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's to the moms.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34247346775/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_3183"><img alt="DSC_3183" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2884/34247346775_c7f92866ab_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The ones helping their kids fly high, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34090624322/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_3468"><img alt="DSC_3468" height="800" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2835/34090624322_38f30511b8_c.jpg" width="534" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
who don't seem to mind when they fade</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34207001686/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_3598"><img alt="DSC_3598" height="800" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2890/34207001686_575f5fcd1d_c.jpg" width="534" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
into the background.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34206965826/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0168"><img alt="DSC_0168" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4188/34206965826_4eaedef2fe_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's to the moms whose lives have been turned upside down,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but they wouldn't have it any other way.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34207555426/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0012-2"><img alt="DSC_0012-2" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2861/34207555426_dc81cc1d70_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's to the moms who never stop teaching,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34207064506/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_5588"><img alt="DSC_5588" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4162/34207064506_82ffc3c22f_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34117315321/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_2688"><img alt="DSC_2688" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2847/34117315321_8a4d164bec_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and the ones who don't take it for granted that they have their hands full.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33863790470/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_2811"><img alt="DSC_2811" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2813/33863790470_3b19bd993c_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33406360554/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_3980"><img alt="DSC_3980" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4175/33406360554_c198e4bd2a_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's to the moms who let dads be dads,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34247419935/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_1919-Edit"><img alt="DSC_1919-Edit" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4176/34247419935_8b4a81d696_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
whose kids' excitement is equalled only by their own.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34090659102/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7317"><img alt="DSC_7317" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4182/34090659102_b5dff80b5a_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's to the moms who have their priorities straight,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34090640262/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_6962"><img alt="DSC_6962" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2843/34090640262_ee8073f443_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
whose clutter will wait while they share a game</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34090649632/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7225"><img alt="DSC_7225" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2874/34090649632_1f0260b655_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
or a story.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33863759460/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_7228"><img alt="DSC_7228" height="546" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2880/33863759460_2fe5ab1939_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33437364863/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0702"><img alt="DSC_0702" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2880/33437364863_075ee9d9cb_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's to the moms who indulge their kids' hair-brained ideas,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
against their own better judgement,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34206963036/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0714"><img alt="DSC_0714" height="800" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2895/34206963036_659c31a941_c.jpg" width="534" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
because sometimes they turn out pretty awesome. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34090693222/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_9788"><img alt="DSC_9788" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2893/34090693222_39588baf55_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's to the moms whose babies are furry,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33437369393/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0598"><img alt="DSC_0598" height="800" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4176/33437369393_ec758af626_c.jpg" width="534" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and who are furry themselves.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33406299504/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0451"><img alt="DSC_0451" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2867/33406299504_9c036739d9_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's to the moms who help each other stay sane and realistic,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/33863737660/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_5377"><img alt="DSC_5377" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2870/33863737660_32a7a6afc6_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
who do what it takes to keep their own attitudes in check.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34247381805/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_5439"><img alt="DSC_5439" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2895/34247381805_2ffd3f3dea_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here's to the moms who are learning to put their kids in the driver's seat,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/7148565@N04/34090661012/in/dateposted-public/" title="DSC_0918"><img alt="DSC_0918" height="534" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2812/34090661012_8c23c85988_c.jpg" width="800" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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who are passing on the baton of faith,</div>
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and who are beginning to see their own mom when they look in the mirror.</div>
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Here's to the moms who are taking the time to honor family traditions</div>
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by handing them down to future generations.</div>
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These are the moms who need to be in the pictures.</div>
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As Mother's Day approaches, do yourself a favor. </div>
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Take the camera out of their hands for a little while,</div>
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and turn it in their direction.</div>
Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-67417015884785367512017-04-24T08:53:00.000-06:002017-04-24T12:42:15.765-06:00Out of our comfort zone<div style="text-align: center;">
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When our sweet Stella came to us last summer,</div>
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she was a scaredy dog.</div>
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When she met another dog, or got near a busy street,</div>
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she would simultaneously bark her head off</div>
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and tremble.</div>
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An encounter with another dog would almost certainly</div>
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result in embarrassingly bad behavior.</div>
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So we certainly didn't envision any trips to the dog park in her future.</div>
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Over time, though, she has settled in. She has learned to trust us.</div>
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She has had some good experiences playing with the dogs next door.</div>
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We never forgot the friends who told us </div>
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their dog behaved better off leash</div>
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with safe boundaries </div>
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and freedom.</div>
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We are grateful that they gently nudged us to get out of our comfort zone with our pup.</div>
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It's so wonderful to see her doing what she was born to do.</div>
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And no matter how far she follows her nose, </div>
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it's never long before she comes back to us.</div>
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Boundaries and freedom.</div>
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What a sweet combination.</div>
For us too, I think.</div>
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"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, </div>
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but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline."</div>
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2 Timothy 1:7</div>
<br />Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8052617420117689150.post-10028787919541251952017-04-18T12:29:00.001-06:002018-03-21T11:15:08.743-06:00Easter in Retrospect<div style="text-align: center;">
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I'm the girl who processes everything slowly, who has to let it simmer. The one who is still "back here"<i> </i>when everyone else has long since moved on. Maybe like Mary, at the tomb. </div>
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I don't mind that much, I sort of like the quiet back here. My blog has been such a therapeutic simmering space over the years. These days, however, the simmering must spill over in person as I lead a women's Bible study group at church on Sundays, and participate in a couple of other similar groups. The time to prepare has precedence over the time to write.</div>
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Today, however, I write.</div>
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I must, in order to follow this train of thought that threatens to derail in my mind if I don't capture it. Hang on, it's a winding track.</div>
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Our group is studying <b><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Encounters-Jesus-Unexpected-Answers-Questions/dp/1594633533/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1492532440&sr=1-1&keywords=encounters+with+jesus">Encounters With Jesus</a></i></b> by Tim Keller. The chapter we happened to be studying during Holy Week was about Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane, one of those things you don't plan that works out perfectly, by God's grace if you ask me. </div>
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Based on Matthew 26, the chapter describes the agony of Jesus in the garden, making the choice of obedience. Indeed, he is beginning to feel the divine connection slipping away even as he prays, clinging to his Father with some of his last breaths, resolutely pressing on with the costly plan of redemption. As Keller started making his case for "the torture of divine absence", I was reminded that the curse of sin that Jesus took on wasn't in the flogging--although that certainly was torture. The curse (for Jesus and all of us) was in the excruciating separation from God. </div>
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"Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save, </div>
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nor his ear too dull to hear.</div>
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But your iniquities have separated you from your God;</div>
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your sins have hidden his face from you,</div>
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so that he will not hear."</div>
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Isaiah 59:1-2</div>
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The finality of that separation is death. And so Jesus takes death head on. The guilt. The shame. The separation.</div>
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I'm not one who loves to focus on the gore of the crucifixion (I wrote about that <a href="http://tracypnothomeyet.blogspot.com/2009/04/benjamins-box.html">here</a> years ago). Last week I found myself asking, what if Jesus had died of cancer? Or an accident? Because that's still a fully separating death that can end in resurrection. So many answers came. </div>
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His death needed to bear the mark of man's sinfulness.</div>
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There is no darker death than death at the hands of your beloved betrayer.</div>
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There is no more ugly assailant the religious establishment.</div>
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There is no more inconvenient truth about humans than that we are prone to abandon those we love, and to do what we would otherwise think inconceivable when we are feeling threatened and afraid.</div>
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There could be no more intense identification with human suffering than that suffered by the God-man.</div>
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Who was responsible for the death of Jesus?</div>
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My sweet women answered this:</div>
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The Romans.</div>
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The Jewish leaders.</div>
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God.</div>
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Me.</div>
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And yet Jesus said, "The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life--only to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father." John 10:17-18</div>
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Before he died, Jesus took full responsibility for his own death. He chose not to play the victim card. He chose it for the joy set before him. (Hebrews 12:2)</div>
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Here's where Keller confronted me with something that I honestly didn't like. He talked about Jesus's obedience in both life and death. "Jesus not only died the death we should have died in order to take the law's curse for us, he also lived the great life of love and fidelity we should have lived in order to earn God's blessing for us." (pp. 158-159) Keller says not only does Jesus' obedience in death remove the penalty of sin (eternal separation from God), but his obedience in life earns us the credit for a righteous life. In short, because we are in Christ, he is thoroughly pleased with us. "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." 2 Corinthians 5:21</div>
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I love the promise of God carrying his work in us to completion. I love that picture of us being hidden in Christ and clothed with his perfection. There are so many images like this in scripture. But last week I found myself resistant. Because you know who doesn't see me clothed in Jesus' righteousness?</div>
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My husband.</div>
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My children.</div>
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The person I honked at in the car in front of me on my way to church.</div>
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I could go on. I'll spare you the details of the ugliness, because you get the picture.</div>
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They all bear the consequences of my sin every time it spills right over onto them. So how is it fair to them that I should enjoy the freedom of being called righteous? The freedom of the sinful barriers to my relationship with God torn down? </div>
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I was warming up with the praise team on Easter morning when something we sang opened the door to a precious answer. My mind moved from the garden to what happened next, right after Jesus settled the matter of obedience to death on the cross. Jesus led his friends out to where Judas would deliver him into the hands of the Roman and Jewish authorities. </div>
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"When Jesus' followers saw what was going to happen, they said, 'Lord, should we strike with our swords?' And one of them struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his right ear. But Jesus answered, 'No more of this!' And he touched the man's ear and healed him." Luke 22:49-51</div>
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It was as if Jesus put his arm around me at that moment and said, "Tracy, it's OK to celebrate today. It's exactly what you should be doing. Because from the moment I settled the decision to die, I've been turning death on its head and bringing dead things back to life. I'm putting ears back on."</div>
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If he can bear the weight of human sinfulness and teach us what it looks like to forgive;</div>
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if he can teach me to trust him and forgive when the sins of others spill over onto me;</div>
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then he can teach me to ask for forgiveness of those I hurt and be a part of the healing process.</div>
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I can rejoice in being counted righteous in him.</div>
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I can obey his "No more of this!" out of love and gratitude, and because the Holy Spirit is working in me.</div>
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I can trust his love for the people who take the brunt of my sinfulness while I'm a work in progress.</div>
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He's putting ears back on.</div>
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Tracy P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07750283241399825265noreply@blogger.com2