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Friday, May 22, 2015

These Many Moments Wrapped in His Grace


There is a ritual here on Fridays called {this moment}.  Well, that's really only true if you're a person who has a very loose definition of "ritual".  The idea came from a blog called Soulemama by a writer who takes beautiful photos and then prompts other bloggers to follow along and link to their own photo of the week, showcasing a special moment. The only words are to be these:

{this moment}:  A Friday ritual.  A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.  A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

The image is to speak for itself.  It should tell of all the emotion of a moment in a single shot.

Well, I'm not good at consistency here. I'm not a great photographer.  I'm not really good at being able to pick just one moment. You know what else you might guess I'm not very good at?  

No words.

I need words.  I need to roll them around in my head and figure out the one that suits the situation perfectly.  I need to speak them out loud and write them down in margins of notebooks and fill up blank screens with them.  I need to listen to them and sing them and analyze them.

It makes the Husband so tired.

But for me, it is enormously frustrating when I can't find the words adequate for a situation.  There are times when I am desperate for the right words and they elude me.  And I really hate that.

Sometimes I look for words to soothe pain.   Like if I'm spending a Saturday night in my pjs texting with a sad friend who just cannot make time go backwards.  My fingers beg God to pull something out of them that might help.  Or if I'm holding my breath as a grieving father shows up to bravely speak in front of a stadium full of people in the hope that his story might affect change even though the memories of that stadium are just about more than he can bear.  Or if I'm averting my eyes as a boy walks the same path that his deceased brother walked only a year before - again to show support for children in the same battle as his brother fought..  What are the right words there?




Is it courage?  Is it sacrifice?  Is it vulnerability?

And sometimes I want exactly the right word to express happiness.  Like if I'm watching a boy who has played baseball for over ten years have a season like he has never had before and grow into a man of confidence in front of my eyes.  Or if I am watching that same boy handle victories and disappointments with grace and character.  Or if I am setting myself up for an ideal photo with the other kid after he played at Nationals Park and the background is perfect and it's going to be a sure-fire framer. But then it gets photo bombed by one of his best friends.  And I realize that the photo bomb makes the picture absolute perfection because HOW AWESOME ARE TEENAGE BOYS?  What are the right words there?






Is it pride?  Is it perseverance?  Is it triumph? Is it joy?

Sometimes I look for the right words to describe moments that make my breath catch in my throat.  Like when I see my boy stand captivated by an empty major league field.  Or when I discover gratefully that sometimes in the childhood cancer community we actually DO hear miracle words like normal range, no evidence of disease and remission.  Or when I stand back and observe a group of teammates learn lessons that far exceed how to hit a curveball as they show grace and favor to a sick child.  What are the right words there?










Is it awe?  Is it compassion?  Is it gratitude?

There aren't words adequate to describe the depth of emotion that happened in the past week.   In the dark of my family room as I shared my heart with a friend.  On the floor of my son's room as we talked about lessons that life teaches us whether we want to learn them or not.  In the bright sunshine at all manner of baseball fields: a majestic major league park where children walked the same path as their heroes, a high school field where players celebrated victory and a little league diamond where a curly haired girl took the hand a red haired boy and instantly melted my heart into mush.

I couldn't pick just one picture of one moment expressing one word this week.  There were many moments and many photos.  And a picture really can be worth a thousand words.  They tell tales of loss and pain.  Of hope and promise.  Of joy and laughter.  Of gratitude and awe.  They tell the story of a multitude of spectacular moments and ordinary days weaved together into a life full of God's infinite grace.





[Some images(the best ones, actually) thanks to Carly Glazier Photography]
(Other Images from Christine Remy, Nancy Stopper, Regena Williamson, Holly Henderson & Jenn Skinner's Iphone)

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