"Ray. People will come, Ray. They'll come to Iowa for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. 'Of course, we won't mind if you look around,' you'll say. 'It's only $20 per person.' They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it: for it is money they have and peace they lack. And they'll walk out to the bleachers; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere along one of the baselines, where they sat when they were children and cheered their heroes. And they'll watch the game and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces.
People will come, Ray.
The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good and that could be again.
Oh.... people will come, Ray. People will most definitely come."
Content quoted from the master film Field of Dreams. Cutie tootie courtesy of my parents.
Twice in the last week, a bad dream has woken me up in the early morning hours. I'm talking about it because I refuse to let Satan have a stronghold on me.
Here's some background information. In the past year, I've attended five funerals (would have been six had I been able). Out of these six, zero have been for saints called home quietly after a long, fulfilled life. Zero. Three have been due to disease, one a sudden heart attack, and two teenage suicide.
None of these people had been a part of my daily life--two family members who weren't local, two friends I hadn't seen in a while, and two strangers. My mourning has been greatly focused on the living. Not trying to sound like a hero or martyr or truly unique individual or anything, this is just the way I'm wired. I'm sure most others feel the same way.
I hate the pain a death lives behind. I HATE it. HATE. I know there are a lot of beautiful, flowery things I could feel and speak and believe, regarding love lost and whatnot, but I want to stamp my feet on the floor, throw my fists stiffly to my sides, and deafly scream I HATE IT.
IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS WAY.
I've recently finished the Hunger Games series, and while it was definitely suspenseful and lovey, it left me in a dark place. For those who haven't jumped on the bandwagon, The Hunger Games is about a futuristic North America (Panem). In the book, we learn that many years previous, war completely obliterated everything we currently hold dear, and from the ashes has risen a corrupt, self-indulgent, hoggish leadership and a broken, victimized civilization. Children are annually selected to be a part of the Hunger Games, a reality-television-gladiator-battle-to-the-death event that has been developed to remind all of Panem that the Capitol has ultimate control. We watch as our main characters ache for things to stop, to not be as cruel--but never did I find a moment where they hoped for something better.
How could this be? How could they not have a vision of what life could look like, what freedom is, what real love and trust and honesty and happiness feel like? Moreover, how could the author completely leave out the idea of religion? Even a broken system? Completely? Correct me if I'm wrong (politely please, I'm a prideful person :) ), but I am fairly certain that religion is never even alluded to in these books. Maybe once.
And of course, this is the part of the story where I realize that I have friends--dear friends--and friends of friends and strangers and family who have no hope! They have no idea of the TRUTH and the freedom is brings! No clue! And then comes the part of the story where my mouth falls open, aghast, and I realize that I could not make it through tomorrow without the assurance of Christ. What would be the point? Why would we suffer through the turmoil of this broken planet if we didn't have a finish line with the author of perfection waiting to heal us? Praise God, we all have a reason to fight the fight and finish the race.
So, to get back to my super catchy first few sentences, after I finished the last book in the series, Mockingjay, and realized that the only hope Katniss could offer her fans was that time would numb some wounds, I started having dreams. Not to make things sound more dramatic than they are. Just two dreams. But both had striking similarities. Both were long, involved, confusing, casual, typical, until I realized that someone was about to fall from a high place. And both times they did. And both times, even in the dream, I knew that I was harvesting memories of what happened in January.
I know that for me, it's still going to take some time and talking and writing to compartmentalized what happened. I refuse to try to be the strong, silent type, because I am not. I am a talker, weeper, mourner. So bear with me as I mourn the reality of what life on this earth is going to look like. And bear the Truth with me that Christ has already conquered the grave, that the end of the story is already written, and that we can know without a shadow of a doubt that there is a place with no pain, no hatred, no loss, and though we are unworthy of that place and most especially the Creator of it--that those who place their trust in Christ Jesus will enter through his grace alone. One day there will be a new Heaven and a new earth and everyone who has ever cried out in a silent scream THINGS AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THIS WAY will learn that all along they were Right and that God keeps every one of His promises.
According to many friends on my Facebook feed as well as a quick Google search, today is Sibling Day. I can ignore a lot of special "days" during the year, but this one seems too great to pass up.
Kyle-- the most trusting and confidence-building brother I've ever met, out of all the big brothers in the world. Brilliant.
Jenny-- incredible intelligence and wisdom beyond her years, along with a healthy dose of silly. My voice of reason.
Rose-- a fighter, a poet, with her I never know what I'm going to get--and that's a wonderful way to live. Always miss you.
Melissa-- genuinely hard to accurately describe. Her sense of humor and reality are both a joy. So is her style and tenacity.
Arturo-- a seeker of justice! My favorite thing is watching him sit in Dad's lap. There's no blood between the two but the connection is irrevocable.
Samantha-- the longer I know her, the more hilarious she turns out to be! A natural beauty. She'll see it one day.
Anthony-- the crowd's favorite, who lets down his guard now and then to show his soft underbelly. He's a good one.
Sandi-- wife to my brother, a sense of calm to his occasional artistic storm. Great joy to our family.
Tiffany-- sister to my husband. Family glue, an incredible mother, and most important (to me!), an honest and loving friend.
Lindsay, Ryan, and Alivia won the BE Thankful contest back around Thanksgiving, and boy howdy let me tell you--it was a doozy trying to fight the weather, stomach bugs, and busy schedules to get these photos taken--but all involved are pretty stubborn, and in the end, we worked it out! I'd say it was well worth it! Please enjoy these sweet peas. Interspersed are Lindsay's words when she wrote to me in November.
I am thankful for so many things in my life....God, my amazing family, the unbelievable man God blessed me with as the father of my child, my education and freedom, but the newest edition to my life is my baby girl!
Words can't describe how thankful I am that God gave me Alivia! I went from thinking I may not be able to have children to being surprised that I received the most precious gift of all.
She has really opened my eyes to a new world. As all new mommies know, it's not easy...but it gets better each and everyday!
I now realize what I am here for and that no matter how bad things may get, it can't be that bad with what we have been given.
She's by far the best thing that's happened to me and for that I'm truly thankful!
"No one will ever know the strength of my love for you. After all you are the only one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside!"
Loved spending the afternoon with you guys!!
xoxo
Bec
Sometimes (when I remember to be a good teacher) I tell my students to put away what they've written, and we don't get it back out for a few weeks. Then, when the time is right (or when I remember, haha), we get their work back out and deal with it with refreshed eyes.
That's exactly what I did today with my photographs from Half Orange Photography's Winter Workshop! When I got home from the (spectacular, inspiring, refreshing) workshop in January, I immediately sat down and edited my favorites. Then I saved them and walked away. Not because I have spectacular patience and self-control, but because I had to! Katie and Stancy asked all of us to wait to publish until they had a fair go at getting the shoot published on a blog. Success! Anyhow, I had the day off of school today, so I decided to get my photos out for publishing.
Then I completely reedited all of them.
Refreshing.
Here you go!
In my humble opinion, any photographer looking for wisdom and a cool dose of refreshing laughter should keep their eye on Half Orange's website, because this workshop is for you.
John and Amy are getting married!!! I've known John for about six years now (Boomer Sooner) and he is one of my most precious friends. When Amy's name started coming up more regularly, we all knew that something special was going on!! When I was able to meet her, I knew--match made in heaven (I don't say that lightly)! I am so excited that these two get to experience marriage together.
We went out to the Arboretum and battled crowds and weddings (I think we counted four or five!) and salmon colored pants (again, I think we counted five or six!) and had the afternoon to focus on the two of them and their sweet love for each other. Sigh. So cute.
Also, check out the last few photos--they decided that instead of using a vintage bike, like many have done (and so well, I might add!), they would use John's triathlon bike. Can I get a YES!?!
