Monthly Archives: July 2009

today: two things

“The tree is more than first a seed, then a stem, then a living trunk, and then dead timber. The tree is a slow, enduring force straining to win the sky.”
-Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Wisdom of the Sands

Two memories playing in my head tonight when I ought to be sleeping… One: my friends at camp call me Blinn. And I love that. I worked there for a couple of years, and some people did not know my first name. That would never work here where I am surrounded by many Blinns.

Identity, though it seems to redefine itself from time to time, stabilizes when surrounded by love.

contemplation sp

The second memory is this. Years ago, when my friends the Chomlacks first moved to Whistler, I went to visit them. Stace went to get coffees in the village, and it was raining. Her then-toddler Jadyn wanted to play on the playground in spite of the weather. The two of us zipped our coats and pulled our hoods over our heads. The drizzle quieted the would-be hub. Jadyn and I stood at the foot of the climbing gym. He looked at me, furrowing his brow. He looked around, the raised volume of his breathing communicating some unexplained frustration. He looked up at the emptiness where he determined children should be.

I know this because he shouted, “Hey kids, where are you?”



Then again, “Hey kids, where are you?”

Jadyn looked at me. Where were they? This was the place they were supposed to be. I tried to explain the weather, the cold… Dejected, Jadyn frowned. He was alone. We nursed our sorrows with hot chocolate. In reality, the kids hadn’t gone away. They were inside, drinking hot chocolate with their moms or playing legos with their little brothers or watching cartoons waiting for the rain to pass so they could go out and play.

Sometimes I feel like Jadyn in my story in the places where I can’t see God. It shakes my identity, feeling alone like that.


tonight: even

fear can always frighten up a few disciples
but no thing can convert true identity

-Michael Hedges, “Ready or Not” (that boy owned his guitar)


if fragile,

today: lemonade

Some days you gotta make lemonade with the lemons that seem to be stacking up, so…


Ingredients for lemonade:

…for sun and stars, for mountains and lakes.
…for cities. How I love cities. New York. Chicago. Seattle. Toronto. Vancouver. San Francisco. Warsaw. Czestochowa. Austin. Belfast. Capetown. Prague. And lots more. These come to mind tonight.
…for music and the people who make it.
…for color and the people who are colorful.
…for truth and how it comes from One true.
…for family.
…for besties.
…for the endless array of people all over the place who are part of this story.
…for culture and cultures.
…for art.
…for feet that run and run and run and go and go and go.
…for eyes that see.
…for blueberries and peaches and cherries.
…for stories.
…for books.
…for a new day tomorrow and new mercy with it.


tonight: maybe then we will fly

I have an ability
it’s pounding at my door
screaming for more

-Ben Harper, “Fly One Time”


so, love, you know, love
finds ways when no way is the only way
so, love, you know, this: grace, only grace
exists to rein in hearts wandering
so, love, not so far off now
you tremble and fear
you tire and peer
at chapters unwritten, weary
forgetful, love?

not me.
my arms reach farther than yours.

today: tired


This week is totally kicking my butt. When it is done, and I’ve recovered, I have some good stories to tell. They are varied. I wanted to write some stories tonight. For now, I am going to bed, photos unedited and dishes unwashed. And that seems like a great idea.

tonight: worth it

“I don’t need a telescope to see there’s hope
and that makes me feel brave.”

-Adam Young, Tidal Wave (Owl City. Please buy this album. Thank you.)


sometimes the only step to take is this:
and do it definitively
throw all that passion in
let a little laughter come
and sometimes even tears
because sometimes the only breath to take is this:
and with a kind of determination
that awakens reality
and joy rises
where brokenness persists
and we who are hungry
acknowledge the gnawing
undefined by it

and with that dance?
we overcome

this journey? worth it


tonight: photographer


in the moment, eyes see at 2.8
what is right in front, going on
and then you are standing on chairs
and there you are wrist sore
from the camera clicking all day long


days later, files, endless files
of stories of what was going on right then
and then you are staring at images
and there you are taken back
towards that place you were, seeing


seeing that back there
2.8 was too shallow a depth of field
for staring at those images a world of perspective
broadens and shapes
and tears come and they are hope


years later everything there
is memory and story: love and sadness
and then you see visual prayers
and there you are thankful
this is your story: seeing, showing, telling