Inspiration

(Not) Photoshopped

Blog_CameraConfession: on multiple occasions I’ve been tempted to ask my tech-savvy husband to photoshop my pictures. And on a couple of occasions, I’ve almost followed through. Though my husband is expert in all things graphic design, I wouldn’t have been happy with the results save for the red-eye removal. I’d rather be real than photoshopped.

Still, I hate having my picture taken and only do it now to preserve memories for my children. My sister was always the photogenic one, with the perfect smile. It takes about a hundred shots for me to take a decent picture, and even then I only like the ones where my super-cute kids draw attention away from me.

Even now the only profile pictures I use consist of me and my kids. My preferred gravatar shows only my face, but if there were space to pan out you’d see that I’m holding my daughter. The day my husband took the picture, we’d gone to take some professional family photos with my in-laws. None of the professional pictures turned out, but the one my husband took is among the few photos I like of me because it captures a moment of genuine contentment and joy—not fake and forced as in a photo shoot.

Maybe my aversion to selfies is a result of pride, not wanting my flaws on permanent display in photo format. Or maybe I only like the ones with my kids because I’m most relaxed and real when with them. In those pictures, I’m laughing, joyful, genuine, not posed. They make me feel beautiful.

Yes, I’m content with how God made me. But I realize it’s who he’s made me that determines beauty. As the Bible says, beauty doesn’t come from external things, as the world would have us believe. It comes from the heart. My children make me feel beautiful because I know I’ve sacrificed for them, and would give my life for them if needed. They’ve seen me at my best and at my worst, and they love me still. They’ve seen me in my most real, most raw moments—unphotoshopped, and somehow find the beauty in it. And that’s how God sees me, too, because he looks beyond the surface and into my heart.

Photo Credit: Free stock photos of analog camera · Pexels

A Time to Grieve

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True love grieves, knowing that life and love could be so much more than what they’ve become in human hands. True love hurts, torn by the sharp-edged pieces as we join in the struggle to mend our broken world. There’s a time for joy, yes. But there’s also a time to grieve. And I never want to forget the pain that reminds me what true love is.

Source: Love Grieves

Photo Credit: Park, Bench – Free images on Pixabay

Waiting to be Found

Blog_LostLast Sunday I went out to walk the dog and found a little boy wandering around the parking lot with no shoes on, no parents in sight. I asked him if he lived in our apartment building, and if I could help him find his parents, but he couldn’t speak clearly. It was early in the day and he looked so disoriented I decided to call 911. While he petted my dog and my kids entertained him with toys, we waited for the police to show up.

It turns out he’d been missing since 6am…almost four hours. His mother came to the door frantic, crying, overwhelmed. All I could do was hug her and let her know I understood. Losing a child for even a minute is every loving parent’s worst nightmare.

I can’t stop thinking of that morning, and how that child was wandering right where I was walking, just waiting to be found. Most days, I walk the dog much earlier, but I believe God’s sovereign hand led me to the right place at the right time for the sake of that lost child. I’m thankful that morning I asked God to open my eyes and order my steps.

Too often I rush through my agenda, too busy to notice those in need. Maybe, without God’s help, I would have hurried through the door, glanced at the little runny-nosed child, and returned to my comfortable routine, presuming his parent was nearby though unseen. But God intervened.

How many people do we encounter each day who are lost? Not in the physical sense, but in every way adrift. Spiritually, emotionally—searching. Waiting to be found.

Every day we pass them by, not looking beyond their smiles and into their eyes. They’re in pain, hurting, waiting for someone to intervene. But we’re too busy to notice.

Father God, slow us down! Open our eyes to see those who are waiting to be found. Order our steps, and let us be your hands, helping you to find them.

Photo Credit: Free stock photo: Fog, Mist, Road, Lost, Girl, Eerie – Free Image …

Don’t Look Back

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Strengthened by Struggle

Blog_ButterflyChrysalisSo it looks like my butterflies-to-be will be coming home with me for Spring Break. Though I was hoping my students would be here to witness metamorphosis, the timing just didn’t work out. But the coming transformation is something I definitely do NOT want to miss. How sad if it were to happen in an empty classroom, for no one to see.

Unfortunately, that’s how most ordinary miracles are, happening every day, all around us—yet we fail to see. But that’s another blog post.

What I’m thinking about now is…struggle. The other morning, my co-worker gave me some pointers on caring for newly hatched butterflies that turned out to be profound wisdom. When they emerge, the butterflies will struggle. I’ll want to help them, of course, but helping them would hinder a necessary process. Because it’s through the struggle that they gain strength.

How reflective of life, these butterflies. We struggle, fight, and flail—all the while praying to get out of the trial we’re in. If only we lived free of struggle, we’d be strong…or so we believe.

Yet it’s in the midst of struggle that we become strong. The burdens we bear seem to weigh us down, when in fact they’re building us up. Soon, our wings will be strong to fly, if only we endure.

Though it’s hard, I’m learning a new prayer—not that God will take the trial from me (unless He wants to!), but that God will make me stronger through the trial. As Jesus prayed in the garden, so I pray, “My father! If it is possible, may this cup of suffering be taken from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”

Do Not Disturb

Blog_WorkInProgressMy butterflies are waiting in their chrysalises, soon to emerge in splendor and freedom. While I wait for their big reveal, I’m doing my best to follow the step-by-step directions that accompanied the butterfly garden kit. And, I might add, biting my nails. What if I do something wrong? Could one mistake prevent these amazing creatures from fulfilling their destiny? Will they die in their cocoon?

This morning, I took the bold step of removing the paper film from their former habitat and transferring the chrysalises to their garden home. Bold, I say, because I do NOT like insects. As mentioned in yesterday’s blog post, the only thing motivating me to care for these otherwise repulsive bugs is the knowledge of what they will become.

The next step shouldn’t be so hard. “Do not disturb.” Although, in a classroom full of curious kids, it’s not as easy as it sounds. The future butterflies are busy at work, though all we see is their hard outer shell hanging loosely from the netting. Our job is to wait and watch.

Sometimes, we get a little eager to see what’s going on with our circumstances. We want answers, and we want them now. If it seems nothing’s happening, we want to intervene. What if we’re not doing enough?

And yet…what if we’re doing too much?

There’s a season for everything. There’s a time to labor and invest. And there’s a time to wait and watch. There’s wisdom in discerning which season we’re in.

If we step in when we should be still, we disrupt the process. Think of Abraham. When he should have been waiting patiently for the fulfillment of God’s promises, he took matters into his own hands—resulting in family strife that affected all of history beyond.

When God says “do not disturb,” it’s best to listen. There’s a work in progress. We’re a work in progress. And the results of waiting (patiently!) are always glorious.

“The Lord will fight for you. You need only be still.” (Exodus 14:14)

Glimpses of Spring

Blog_FlowersInSnowIf you live in the Midwest, it’s not a good idea to pack away your thermals for the summer or to box up your t-shirts for the winter. Weather-wise, you never know what you’ll get out here. You could be wearing flip-flops in February and long johns in July. It wasn’t long ago that Snowmageddon hit and we were snowed in for a good chunk of winter. This year, it seems everyone’s been outside jogging in their shorts since the end of January.

In my perfect world, winter would last from Thanksgiving to a few days after New Years. We’d have five months of spring, a few weeks of summer, and five months of fall. It’s not that I don’t like winter or summer, just not the extreme temperatures that come with them.

Unfortunately, we don’t live in my perfect world. Winter typically comes a little too early and stays way too late. Summer gets impatient and takes over before spring has a chance to say goodbye. And fall’s colors never stick around long enough. But, like I said, there are always surprises.

This has been a winter of surprises, with a relatively mild January, and February racking in a record number of above average temperatures. Still, we all know it’s not over yet. Though in a few short weeks the calendar will tell us it’s officially spring, we can’t get too confident. Winter might decide it’s hungry for a few flowers.

Despite the inconsistencies of Midwestern weather systems, I refuse to complain. Spring has fought a good fight already, breaking through into winter…giving glimpses of things to come.

Life has it’s own seasons. Too often we linger in frigid cold. Yet in the midst, God intervenes, bringing glimpses of spring as a reminder that winter will come to an end. Spring is like hope. It’s heaven breaking through, reminding us that there is a glory that far outweighs our light and momentary trials here on this earth.