Monthly Archives: December 2010

tonight: see.

“The soul helps the body and at certain moments raises it. It is the only bird that sustains its cage.”
-Victor Hugo via Parker Fitzgerald, whose work I love

darkness seen as light
darkness is as light
concept, mesmerize
shine on this and these soul(s)
so alive
see light; be bright (please)
even, even knowing night


today: merry? yes.

long lay the world in sin and error pining
til he appeared and the soul felt its worth
a thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

mild he lay his glory by, born that man no more may die

May your Christmas be full of life and love, of family and laughter, of joy and hope. May you find yourself calming your heart and considering a story that invites you to believe. May it provoke your faith. May it stir your core. May you see Jesus. May the spirit of the season be giving and surrender, grace and peace. May you and yours yield weariness that you may rejoice.

Virgin birth. Incarnate God. His humility trumpeting goodness, salvation and peace. God in a manger, the world redeemed.

Merry Christmas? How can it not be?

May the Light that pushes back darkness form the arch that canopies your life this holiday season. Life is beautiful; God, good.

today: Chesterton on Children for Advent

Trying to prepare my heart for Christmas while
working and
sleeping and
running and
buying and
wrapping and
playing and
not really making enough time for silence and solitude and contemplation
(I see a 2011 resolution post coming on…).

Seeing helps. Things like this:

Reading helps. Yesterday this:

“The fascination of children lies in this: that with each of them all things are remade, and the universe is put again upon its trial. As we walk the streets and see below us those delightful bulbous heads, three times too big for the body… we ought always primarily to remember that within every one of those heads there is a new universe, as new as it was on the seventh day of creation. In each of those orbs there is a new system of stars, new grass, new cities, a new sea.”
-GK Chesterton, excerpted from The Defendant (Oh what a wise man whose words ought to be considered.)

Please let me, let us, be childlike, even while ever-shedding childishness. Wide-eyed wonder goes along way in a world shrouded in light forcing darkness to yield. Yes.

tonight: mexico, we used to go

I went to a colonia in Reynosa, Mexico twelve times in five years. This year I have not gone. This is a week we would have been there. I missed it tonight. I wondered what lies ahead, for our friends in Mexico and for me as someone who loves to go.

Vamos Tamaulipas December 2009 from Erin Blinn on Vimeo.

in the colonia we made friends
we learned names
we ate meals
we found love, time and again
and we worked hard
and we grew tired
in the colonia we took shoes
for four years (maybe five)
we gave boxes
we held babies
we yielded our hearts
and became something larger than just a team
the lines- us, them- blurred
and we loved, we loved, we loved
and we love, we love, we love
so we trust that in the colonia
God is there now
as much as we were then
and once again, we find it true
all is grace
all is grace

today: thankful.

“Where are we really going? Always home.”

Thanksgiving came and went without a post. The rhythm of photography and travel in the fall was fast-paced. I learned a lot, lived a lot and slept a little. And then it was Thanksgiving and the rush whirled on. And now it is December. I am finally catching my breath and writing a Thanksgiving post. I have a lot to be thankful for. Every day. Most days I try to stop and savor the grace that has been gifted me. (Some days I utterly fail to do so.) What I know of God is so often understood through the people He’s placed in my life. It’s like He knew we need each other to understand His goodness and love. I am thankful for that. It starts with these guys. I am so thankful we are…

I’m thankful…

…that they took their better and worse vows seriously 35 (is that right?!?) years ago. And they look good together, don’t you think?

…she loves justice and mercy and lives accordingly. And that she makes yummy food.

…she wants the best for her family and friends and is not afraid to say so. She’s also an incredible roomie-sister-friend combo.

…integrity is ingrained in this guy, and so is leadership, compassion and kindness.

…he remains childlike and teaches us to love in extraordinary ways day in and day out. My parents took a big risk bringing him into our home. And he is utterly worth it every day.

…for her creativity and grace, for the way she always calls back. We have truly become friends, a rite of passage in becoming an adult sister, I think.

…for his humor and confidence. Not many 17-year-olds know how to celebrate being in their family. He often does.

…he has always been laid back and unafraid to do his own thing. He is steady.

…he allowed change when it needed to come and remains teachable, honest and wry.

…the thought of how compassionate this kid is makes me tear up. And he’s fun.

…that he’s a reader and is fast climbing the humor ladder in our family in the most unassuming way. He says thank you more than any other kid I know.

…he is himself. He always has been. He send the best emails. He thinks differently.

…he is the baby Blinn bookend. He is just right for the role, a fun-loving, athletic, smart kid who doesn’t mind being the center of attention.

I’m thankful we go together. We don’t always get it right, but we do our best to let go when we get it wrong. I could write a lot of other thankful thoughts and words. Instead, I want to camp out here tonight: I am thankful for my family. We go together, and it is good. We laugh a lot. We rely on each other. We do our best to love.

I think maybe we are God’s kindness to each other. That, to me, is a beautiful thought.

today: into focus

“Identity is such a crucial affair that one shouldn’t rush into it.”
-David Quammen

Today was One of Those Days, capital O, T and D. So I walked the dog, me needing the walk as much as she. Life needed to come into focus. I held out my hands thinking about all these roles:

Sometimes I allow myself to get overwhelmed, and today was one of those days. It was not a good overwhelmed. It was, however, a moment.

And I let the dog run in the field. And I took some photographs (for another day). And I remembered that first I am a Child of God, capital C, capital G. And I am loved. And we are going to be okay. All of us. So I breathed a sigh of relief, and remembered I don’t have to have it all figured out. I can just take the next step. Then the next. Tis’ so sweet to trust…

Today: Super G’s Super Big Day (how the world became a better place yesterday)

For the past few months, I’ve spent my days supernannying for baby Grant, age six months. He’s my sweetest baby buddy. I love him. A lot. Yesterday was a really big day for little Grant. Yesterday, Grant’s adoption finalized. As I type those words, my eyes are tearing up. Again. They have every time I’ve thought about yesterday morning.

In case you were wondering, 7:45 is early for me. For me to be dressed, parked and on the fifth floor of the courthouse in Downtown Fort Worth by that time is quite an accomplishment. When Grant’s mom asked me if I wanted to come to the court date, though, I knew I had to go. I’ve spent a lot of time with the little guy, and though he’s too young to know it, it was a very important day. So up and dressed I was.

While we waited to be called into the court room, I noticed two other families with babies in arms gathering in the hallway. We were all invited into the courtroom together. The judge called court into session. Grant’s name was not called first. That was a good thing, because as soon as the proceedings started for the first little guy, one Eli from Ethiopia, I was a mess of tears. So were Grant’s relatives in attendance.

Watching a baby whose name we only just learned become part of a family was so very right. My tears, I think, were the kind of tears that come when you realize you’re in the midst of a sacred moment. As Eli’s parents paused for photos, I thought, “we are witnessing as the world becomes a better place.”

The proceedings of the second baby were similar. We witnessed as the world become a better place again.

And then Grant’s name was called. And the judge read some words. Grant’s parents raised their hands and promised to love Grant for ever. They committed to take care of him in every sense of the word. They declared him their son. The court validated their relationship. And I cried, fully then, because the significance of watching this little boy who I have grown to love as he was given permanence in his family? It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

Rare are the days when you get to witness such beauty. The world became a better place, overwhelmingly. I know Grant’s name. I know his squeaky little cry. I’ve watched his cheeks grow chubby as the months pass. I know how to calm him when he’s sad and how to get him to sleep when he’s tired. I know this little boy. I love him. Watching two other little boys’ adoptions proceed just prior to my little buddy’s gave me some time to realize my heart was expectant and joyful.

The third time the world became a better place in that courtroom in Fort Worth, I breathed a quiet prayer of thanks. I saw grace personified in Grant’s parents holding their boy and believed God knew this would be Grant’s story. He is theirs. I marveled at the tangibility of love in the room.

Grant has a family. I remain amazed and awestruck at the significance. Adoption is amazing.