Photo Essay — Page 7

Midweek Meanderings: a Photo Essay

April 12, 2012 By Diana

The 5-point (meaning I pivoted 5 times to get the whole thing), 240 degree view from our back terrace this week. Sigh.

The rain last night was lovely, clearing the air, greening the hillside,

encouraging a warming fire in the fireplace.

This morning, all the clouds are piled up to the south,

slowly making their way to our real home,

and the homes of our children.

These shots taken on my afternoon circular walks around the driveway. Once, this was a grand central CA home. Now it is an amazing view with a very run-down house. It makes me sad to see homes neglected, but we are grateful for what there is in this spectacular vacation space, hanging over the bluffs with the hills just behind. And there’s lots of room to spread out, which is a good thing with so.many.of.us.

We’ve been together since last Friday,

spread out in a large, hacienda-style rented home.

A place in need of some major TLC –

but with a killer view of the Pacific coast.

Birds flourish here.

And so do children.

The 2-year-old runs headlong down the hill toward the bluff, causing gasps on all sides.

But someone bigger is always nearby

to step between her and the abyss.

May it always be so!

Eastertide is a season for celebration and for gratitude,

for remembering who we are as the people of God.

And here, on this rugged shore,

with a 17-year-old asking good, hard questions,

two 13-year-0lds sharing a kayak adventure,

a 10-year-old giggling his way through a great game of ping-pong and two 6-year-olds alternately

adoring and infuriating one another,

we are celebrating.

And we are grateful.

Even the 21-year-old was here for the weekend,

before heading back to school and responsibilities,

four hours south of this gathering place.

Our adult children are good and interesting people.

Their spouses are kind and good-natured.

All of them are attentive parents and generous housemates.

We observed Easter at a church unknown to any of us and followed with a feast, just as the Christian church has done for centuries. We are also celebrating the 70th birthday of Poppy,

our loved and lovable patriarch, the acceptance into his 1st choice college for the 17-year-old and a good private high school scholarship for one of the 13-year-olds.

After so many years of struggle and loss,

it is good to gather in gratitude.

We even took a family photo … the first ever …

to round out the weekend just past.

The photographer is working on the touch-ups

and we will soon have a lasting memento of this time spent together,

possibly by week’s end.

The hunters and the hiders – not sure who enjoys the Easter Egg Hunt the most.

Though she loves the idea of hunting and hiding, Lilly does not quite fully grasp the concept. Generally, if she hides, she guides the hunter until she’s found. :>)

In the meantime,

we soak in the beauty around us,

explore the small towns that circle round the sea,

while some play tennis,

and others a little b-ball.

One daughter and her husband paid for two days of heating the pool on the property and about half the crowd

jumped in and enjoyed getting wet and tired.

We’ve had an egg hunt or two,

enjoyed delicious home-cooked meals,

even traveled to a local ice-cream maker’s

“All You Can Eat” Tuesday celebration.

In a beat-up side room, there is a pool table and ping-pong,

and someone contributed a 2000 piece puzzle to pour over.

Settlers of Catan has made an appearance and Bananagrams, too,

so no one seems bored.

Many naps are taken in this house,

signaling the welcome arrival of true relaxation

and energizing Sabbath rest.

We all point and shout,

thanking God for sightings of otters,

sea lions, an occasional dolphin –

even a whale, far out in the bay.

Avila Beach, just north of where we are.

A creekside restaurant for lunch in San Luis Obispo

Through it all, we thank God for the richness of family life,

the push and pull of living in the same space,

sharing the work and the fun,

watching the children grow in wisdom and in stature.

Friday, we return to reality.

Or at least to our usual list of responsibilities and commitments.

Sometimes, though, I do believe that experiences like this week are the true reality,

life as it was originally designed to be lived.

Maybe everything else is mere illusion,

the structure that has been overlaid on human life

in the wake of Eden.

So, we’ll take these windows of grace.

And we’ll savor them, thank God for them,

take lots of pictures

and build reservoirs of stories to share

as the years progress.

And once in a while,

I’ll write about it here.

Because I really do believe that

this is the truest part of me.

At least, until Friday.

I’ll sign this one on with Michelle at “Graceful,” Jen at “Finding Heaven,” Ann at “A Holy Experience,” Em at “Canvas Child,” Laura at “The Wellspring,” Laura at “Seedlings in Stone,” and Jennifer at “Getting Down with Jesus.” I encourage you all to check out these fine blogs – but I am having increasing difficulty getting buttons to show up in the new blogger format. If anyone has any shortcuts for this tedious job, I’d love to hear them.

Filed Under: birthdays, church year, Easter, family, Family/Travel, memoir, Photo Essay, Wonderings in the World

Leaving LaLaLand – a Photo Essay on Re-Entry

March 24, 2012 By Diana

Getaways are wonderful.

Fresh air for body and spirit,

time to re-connect with spouse and with self.

But it’s not real life – at least not regular real life.

The week began with beautiful blue skies,

moderately warm sun,

clear mountain views,

and an invitation to slow down.

Our last night, we went to dinner at Roy’s – one of our favorite restaurants. Pacific rim food, beautifully cooked, elegantly prepared.

We skipped lunch, got an early dinner reservation and enjoyed

an almost empty restaurant.

Both of us felt rested and grateful.

Braised pear and spicy walnut salad,

perfectly grilled salmon with polenta and braised spinach,

and their trademark Molten Chocolate Cake with

Haagan-Daaz vanilla.

We don’t eat this way very often,

so when we do – we make the most of it!

By the next morning, a big storm system was moving in rapidly. The mountains had disappeared from view,

and the wind was swirling as we loaded the car.

The desert reappeared, brown and sere, as we headed back to the freeway, just a tiny square of blue remaining in the sky.

There is a strange beauty to a desert landscape.

It’s not one I would choose to look at all the time,

but it is one I appreciate when I’m there.

The desert palette is subdued, drawing attention to the shape and contour of the land itself.

The play of shadow and light is always shifting,

changing, soft and subtle.

Driving through the pass between Joshua Tree and San Bernardino, there are windmill farms by the acre,

tall spikes reaching into the air,

huge blades spinning, spinning, spinning.

I never know quite how I feel about these large areas of wind farming. I like the alternative harvesting of power

for our ravenous and technologically dependent culture.

Yet I rebel against the invasive nature of these foreign objects across the landscape.

We don’t live in a perfect world and these enormous

turbines are reminders of that truth.

Yet the orderliness of their rows appeals to the (now almost entirely latent!) organizer in me and they do make a striking silhouette on the hillsides around the highway.

Like the rest of our desert experience,

the drive home is filled with interesting contrasts:

dry desert edges met by

green grass and expansive landscaping all through the cities;

geography that would naturally repel large numbers of people met by

wide roadways, crowded with cars and trucks;

sagebrush, cactus and joshua trees met by

golf course after golf course after golf course.

By the time we got to Redlands, it was raining quite hard, much-needed water falling on every surface – from high desert to mountain top, where elevation changed the drops to flakes of snow. At last, a bit of snow pack for our dry state.

We joined my mother for lunch in her dining room.

It was St. Patrick’s day and all the waiters and waitresses were dressed accordingly.

Corned beef and cabbage,

green macaroni salad,

shamrock-shaped sugar cookies.

She was glad to see us – we were glad to see her.

She seems to be settling into assisted living better each week.

The rain was stopping as we neared Santa Barbara, but the wind was fierce. A brief stop at Butterfly Beach told us walking the beach would not be possible that day.

But even in the bluster, something rang and sang inside me.

This is the view that nourishes me most.

This is home.

We dove right back into life almost as soon as the car was unloaded.

Sunday worship, Connections Dinner with new people from church, several directees to see for me,

flight arrangements to be made for board meetings for Dick.

It is so good to get away from the regular sometimes.

To look at different landscapes,

to enjoy quieter, more solitary experiences.

But it is also good to come back to the regular,

to re-enter the maelstrom, to engage with the people and the work that God has called us to.

My husband will celebrate an important birthday this next week, a birthday that we are so happy he is reaching – alive and well, using his gifts to serve his family and the church, loving his grandchildren, helping many to make wise investment decisions, enjoying the somewhat slower pace that retirement has brought.

As I write this, it is very early on a Saturday morning and we have been home for one week.

He will rise in a few hours and play tennis with our son.

We will both work around the house, doing things that need to be done – but also doing things that will remind us of our time away – reading, writing, conversing.

And we will do them with contentment and purpose,

glad for the restful getaway, but also glad and grateful to be ‘working out our salvation’ in this time, in this place.

Glad and grateful to be at home.

Joining this one (and Part 1) with the Lauras – Barkat & Boggess with thanks for their weekly invitation:

Filed Under: Family/Travel, Photo Essay

Only in California – A Photo Essay of Fun

March 23, 2012 By Diana

You know you’re in a resort community when you see streets named after celebrities, when golf carts are given the right of way, when casinos are the highest buildings on the horizon.

And I suppose, to many people, these kinds of pictures are ‘typical’ for life in what has been not-so-affectionately called LaLaLand.

I can almost hear the armchair critics now:

“Just a bunch of glitz out there in Cali-forn-eye-ay, Mildred.

Them folks got no morals, no culture, nothin’ that’s real.

Ya wanna stay away from that place.”

Yes, I jest.

A little.

And if this were all there was to see when traveling around the greater Palm Springs area, you might sit right down in that armchair and join the chorus.

But I’m here to tell you – there’s a lot more to see, to do, to enjoy,

than celebrities, golf and gambling.

Especially if you’re in need of a change of pace, some time and space to rest, and the fun of watching portions of a renowned tennis tournament.

The first thing to remember is that you are, truly, in the desert. When you arrive at your hotel or your rented condominium, things will not look like this, however.

They might very well look like this.

Or possibly like this.

Surrounded by towering mountains,

silhouettes of palm trees everywhere,

angled light of late winter,

colorful blooms,

rolling green golf courses,

you could be sitting on a small, delightful patio,

just aiming your camera wherever you please.

More than likely, there will be a well-maintained,

nicely heated pool somewhere nearby.

This always makes for a relaxing afternoon.

Of course, there are the local courses to wander.

The mountain backdrop somehow makes everything seem more dramatic, more picturesque.

And on those wanderings, you might encounter some water fowl here and there.

Ducks of various kinds.

And an occasional honker or two,

lost on their migration back home to Canada and points north.

No guys – that’s not a pond. It’s a sand trap. Try again.

And there’s no better place to enjoy a little bird-watching – from the comfort of your patio chair, of course.

The mocking birds are out in force, preening and singing their little hearts out, hoping to set up shop with the missus somewhere nearby.

The hummers love the lantana right next to the table, so you can spend hours – literally! – waiting to capture just one of them with your camera.

If you’re really blessed, you might just spy a small beauty like this one, whose name you may never know.

And in the temperate climes of the late winter high desert, there are always blooms to enjoy –

colorful, interesting, unique.

And if you’re really fortunate, you might glimpse some of these fluttering, wandering wonders, too.

After all that rigorous activity, you’ll need some sort of outing to refresh and inspire you. And this place is just the ticket!

The Indian Wells Tennis Stadium – at night, to avoid the heat of the midday sun.

The tournament is sponsored by a bank most of us have never heard of before – but if they have their way, we will all know who they are very, very soon.

And if, perchance, you should happen to be in attendance on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, you will get a chance to see the two finalists play – on their way to becoming finalists.

(The finals are much easier to watch from the comfort of your own family room, upon your return home.)

Roger Federer, the Swiss titan.

Who actually lost the first set to an up-and-coming young Canadian named Milos Raonic – who was excellent.

But then, of course, he went on to win this round, beat Nadal in the next round and win the tournament the following Sunday.

And then you might be able to watch John Isner, the only American left in contention. Six feet, nine inches with a powerhouse serve, this guy is intimidating on the court and played well against Federer in the finals.

If you’re a true fan of the game, you’ll stay for the second event of each evening, although almost everyone else will abandon ship. Watching women’s doubles is interesting and exciting and Ivanovich won her singles match to advance to the semis and eventually the finals.

What you will come to appreciate if you attend a tournament like this is the huge network of folks who make it happen.

Line judges, referees and ball-fetchers, to name just a few.

Figuring out when they rotate positions is tough to do. And you might find yourself wondering how the kids who chase down stray balls and tend to the needs of the players can possibly stay awake in school the next day.

Especially when you get out at midnight both nights.

Yes, there is much more to these California desert resorts than celebrities, casinos and golf.

There is natural beauty, on scales both grand and small,

there is warm sunshine,

there is a relaxing ambiance that invites you to slow down,

settle in,

and unwind.

And that is a very good thing.

Joining this (and part 2) with L.L. Barkat and Laura Boggess for their weekly invitations:

Filed Under: Family/Travel, Photo Essay

The Good Ache: a Photographic Reflection

March 2, 2012 By Diana

Overlooking the Saanich Inlet on Vancouver Island, August 2007

Aches and pains.

Yes, I’ve got a few.

Part of the aging process, or so they tell me.

Knees that creak,

heels that are tender,

hips that remind me they’re there, working away.

And heartache?

Yes, I’ve known a bit here and there,

some of it permanent.

You never stop missing those you love.

But there is another ache that I live with,

day in and day out,

from sun up right through my dream life.

And that ache is a wonderful thing.

An ache buried deep within me

at the hand of my Creator –

an ache for…

home,

love,

beauty.

Yes – beauty.

I reflected on that a bit last Sunday

and I’ve kept thinking about it ever since.

Turning a corner and finding…

a sunset,

a sunrise,

a cooing baby,

a soaring mountain range,

a field of wildflowers,

a couple in love,

the coltish antics of middle-schoolers,

leaping across a lawn,

the creative genius of a fine artist,

a musician,

a sculptor,

anything and everything

that makes that chord inside ring and resound.

Anything and everything that sings to that yearning,

that yearning for every single reflection I can find

of the beauty of God.

STOP

Some words in response to Lisa-Jo’s prompt for 5-minute Friday this week.
And that prompt is “ache.”

This written reflection was done in 5 minutes –
links, photos and captions added later.

Join the party over at The Gypsy Mama and check out how others have responded.

(And then you can scroll through a few samples of heart-thrumming beauty recorded by my camera over the last few years – and this is just a small sample. They range from scenic vistas to charming children, to delicious food to ancient cathedrals.)

Puget Sound, WA, August 2007

Four gangly boys and their games.

Butchart Gardens, August 2007

Two-year-olds that same summer.

Whidbey Island views, 2007

Cathedral views, various places – stained glass on old stone; organ pipes and chandeliers; trussed ceilings lit by natural light.

Human structures, remarkable engineering and reflections.

All of these from a river cruise in Europe, 2009

And of course, a variety of Hawaiian views – from Maui and Kauai – places and people who are dear, dear, dear to me. (And a couple of creatures plus a whimsy driven color combo that knocked me flat one day at lunch.)
This last picture is similar to others I’ve posted in this space – one of them in the post noted above – and it is one of about FIFTY I shot of the most remarkable sunset I’ve just about ever seen. And that’s saying something – I’m in my 7th decade, I live in a coastal town, I’ve traveled to HI about every other year since 1980. And this one was an absolute corker.

Filed Under: Family/Travel, God's gifts, Photo Essay, Wonderings in the World

Quiet Space

February 26, 2012 By Diana

“The world will be saved through beauty.”

-Doestoevsky

“One thing I ask from the LORD,
   this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
   all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the LORD
   and to seek him in his temple.”

– Psalm 27:4

We serve a beautiful God. Praises be.

Joining tonight with two friends who invite quiet reflection at week’s end.
Sandra Heska King’s ‘Still Saturday’
and
Deidra Riggs’ ‘Sunday’

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Photo Essay

5 Minute Friday – GRIT: An Essay with Photos

February 24, 2012 By Diana

Wowza. It’s Friday again. Whoosh – that week just flew by. But every Friday, we try to write like we believe we can fly (Lisa-Jo’s fine words). So I’ll give it a whirl, one more time. Take a prompt. Set a timer. GO. Write. STOP. And see what comes out. Try it, you’ll like it. And check out a few others who’ve got it going on over at The Gypsy Mama’s place.

This week’s prompt? GRIT
GO:

I got some grit between my toes today. Yes, I surely did.

It was bright and beautiful here.

And I had a ton of errands to run. But not so many that I couldn’t take a break at lunchtime and run down to the beach.

I went to the slough – an engineered salt water river and estuary that draws the water birds, by the hundreds.

And I walked right down onto the sand with my camera in hand, and I started pointing and shooting.

And smiling inside.

In a big, big way.

Because when I’m tired.
Or when I’m worried.
Or when I’m feeling insecure, or out of place, or not at all sure that I’m doing what I ‘should’ be doing…

what I need is a little bit of that gritty stuff between my toes.
And some time with the birds.

I don’t know a whole lot about them, but I surely do love to watch them do their bird thing.

They know exactly what to do. And they know when to do it.
They don’t battle insecurity.
They don’t wonder if they’re living up to their potential.
They don’t try to be anything other than what they are.

They do what their Creator designed them to do.
Every moment. Of every day.

And they do it with beauty, grace, humor and a fair amount of noise.

And I LOVE IT.

Lord, help me to be exactly who you’ve made me to be. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And help me to do it with grit between my toes.

STOP

Writing time, exactly five minutes, including fixing two spelling errors.
Adding pictures? Well, a few more than five. :>)

Where the slough comes from the ocean.

The ‘big picture’ of the major sand bar, the eucalyptus grove, the Goleta hills behind.

A gathering of gulls, all facing into the warm sunlight.

Cormorants cooling it on some old pilings, watched over by a great blue heron.

A trio of pelicans, resting on a sand bar.

A great blue begins to circle around, seeking out his particular nest among the dozens of 100# twig collections in the tops of those trees.

The circle gets a little bigger…

…makes another loop…

…and then settles right in at home.

See that greater egret over there by the cliff? He’s my favorite.

Except maybe for this guy – a male red-breasted merganser.

But that tall one, back there in the shadows. He’s fascinating, don’t you think?

Now he steps forward, surrounded by black-winged stilt birds, with their knees all backwards. (Does the egret’s pose remind anyone of Steve Martin doing the Egyptian? Or are none of you old enough to remember that old act of his?)

Sort of a stately guy.

And I’m eternally grateful to him for flying, just for a moment.

And for staring at himself in the mirror…oh wait, I think he’s looking for lunch!

Yup, he’s goin’ for it!

And I watched a couple of stilts do a little doe-si-doe…

Shall we dance?

Nah – way too risky!

Got one shot with a full reflection – what a gorgeous creature.

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, personal journey, Photo Essay, Wonderings in the Word

Time Away: A Photo Essay on Theological Reflection

February 21, 2012 By Diana

A disclaimer: this essay begins with some colorful pictures and ends with some pretty dense reflection on what I learned and experienced at this retreat, particularly what I learned and experienced this morning. I wanted to get this down in writing because it was so extraordinarily valuable to me just now. It truly helped me to work through a lot of the pain I’ve been carrying around for many, many months now about my mother’s deterioration. And it did so in some surprising ways. I want to outline the process for you because I believe it to be a true gift from God when life feels fuzzy, painful, puzzling, overwhelming, mysterious. SO…if you don’t want to plow through some pretty dense stuff, then just scroll through the pictures and call it a day. But if you want to follow along a bit – and then maybe engage in conversation about all of this – leave me a comment and we’ll talk.

It was cool and crisp on the central coast this holiday weekend.
Skies varied from blue to hazy to deep clouds.

Over fifty of us gathered at the Mission Renewal Center
of the Old Mission of Santa Barbara,

to re-connect, to re-center, to learn, to worship.

St. Francis was in his usual place, raising hands to heaven.

The grass was green, the flowers were blooming.

The architecture did its usual number on me,

reminding me of the history of my state,

our strong ties to Mexico over many generations.

The topic for the weekend was Forgiveness for All and we approached it in different ways, some of them intense and challenging. We looked at the mind-blowingly intricate and beautiful theology of scientist and Jesuit priest, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. And we viewed large chunks of a PBS documentary entitled,
“Forgiveness: a Time to Love and a Time to Hate.”
All of it was challenging, thought-provoking, convicting, enlarging.

I am both grateful and exhausted.

This morning’s wrap-up session involved the practice
of reflecting theologically on these two very different resources;
I was powerfully reminded today
of how probing and life-changing such reflection can be.
There’s a book about this process and it’s called –
surprise! – “The Art of Theological Reflection,” by Killan & de Beer.
It outlines a methodology for integrating faith and life
by reflecting on an event or experience in these basic ways:

1. Writing a brief, 5 sentence narrative paragraph about something you have read/seen/experienced (we did it about the documentary film; you could do it about anything happening in your life – a movie you’ve seen, a book you’ve read, a conversation you’ve had).

2. Reading what you have written and identifying the primary emotions elicited. Sit with the feelings until they become visceral.

3. Move next to visual images and brainstorm a list of the first pictures that come to mind.

4. Choose one image that best captures the feelings and explore this image by asking these questions, slowly and reflectively:

a. How is God present? How is God calling?

b. Using active imagination, get inside the image and ask: what is life like here?

c. Look again at the image, even more closely, and see what is broken and sorrowing there.
d. Continue to look at the image in your mind’s eye and ask: what are the possibilities for healing or renewal, either actual or implied?

Now, re-read everything you’ve written to this point.

You are now ready for the second set of reflections. This first set was deeply personal – finding an image out of your experience that resonates and touches your own psyche.

In this next section, you are asked to connect with something within the Christian tradition – scripture/liturgy/theological study you may have done. (We did it with the work of de Chardin).

Now, return to the image and allow it to be very present to you. Again, prayerfully brainstorm – this time generating a list of ideas from scripture or tradition that come immediately to mind.

Choose ONE idea from your list to sit with for the same kind of reflection questions you worked through with the image originally:

1. How is God present and calling?
2. Try to ‘get inside’ of the idea you’ve chosen from the tradition and reflect on what life is like there. Jot down what comes to mind.
3. Gaze at your mental image of this idea/verse/picture and ask if there is anything broken or sorrowing there.
4. Finally, ask what the possibilities for healing and renewal might be.

NOW – invite a conversation between the image you selected in the first part of this exercise and the piece of the tradition you have chosen in the second part.

Do you see any:

Similarities

Differences

Common themes

Tension

Re-read everything you’ve written and try to respond to these questions:

1. What emerges for you in the conversation between the image and the piece from the tradition?
2. What insights do you find?
3. What questions are raised for you?
4. Does anything from this conversation shed new light on the narrative you wrote out at the very beginning of this process?

This takes time – but Oh!, the rewards are so rich! I am indebted to Father Steve Coffey for his excellent synthesis of both de Chardin and the Theological Reflection process.This is something I want to do more faithfully, to invite reflection, deep reflection, on the intersections of what I believe with what I experience in the dailyness of life.

It is fascinating to go back and read your original narrative – the writing that spurs the entire process – and see where you end up in the final conversation between personal and traditional images.

Without going into any great detail or discussion on the pros and cons of either the film we viewed or the theology we discussed, I will just say that I began to weep quietly with the first set of reflection questions (which were read aloud to us while we worked individually and quietly – it took about 45 minutes to do it all).

My original narrative had nothing to do with my mom, but the images that came to me centered on her.

And the image from de Chardin’s theology?

BIG surprise for this Protestant pastor –

the sacred heart of Jesus,

as re-interpreted by de Chardin in his astoundingly
expansive view of the Risen Christ as the ground,
meaning and end of all creation.

Seeing my sinking, sobbing mama
enclosed by the pulsing heart of a loving Savior –
well, it just finished me.

It truly did.

In a very, very good way.

Thanks be to God.

Joining this very strange post with a lot of friends whom I hope will be open to a little different kind of writing tonight: with Michelle, as she mourns the loss of her father-in-law; with Jennifer, as she gets ready to go to Haiti next month; with Jen and the sisterhood at soli deo gloria – such a praying bunch!; and with Ann, as she continues to count out gratitude.

Filed Under: Photo Essay

A Quiet Moment

February 19, 2012 By Diana

“For each perfect gift of Thine,

To our race so freely given,

Graces human and divine,

Flowers of earth and buds of Heaven.

Lord of all to Thee we raise,

this our hymn of grateful praise.”

Last verse and refrain from the hymn, “For the Beauty of the Earth,”

written in 1864 by a man with quite the name: Folliott S. Pierpoint.

He was all of 29 years old when he wrote these words and was said to be

mesmerized by the beauty of the countryside that surrounded him.

That pretty much describes my response to the sight of these pink

blooms suddenly appearing, hanging over an alleyway while I

took a walk around my daughter’s neighborhood in the Los Angeles suburb of Monrovia, CA last week.

John Rutter’s glorious setting of these words (well, almost – he uses the alternate wording of ‘joyful praise’ for the last line of the refrain) is one of my very favorite choral pieces ever. Enjoy this rendition, sung by the choir of a girls’ school from Singapore. Happy holiday weekend, everyone.

Joining with Sandy King and Deidra Riggs and their restful invitations to quiet this weekend.

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Photo Essay

Five Minute Friday: DELIGHT: A Photo Essay

February 18, 2012 By Diana

I’m about out of words for this week.

I’ve written my heart out for the last two weeks or so,

trying to be more ‘vulnerable’ in my reflections.

Net result?

Fewer readers, many fewer comments.

A couple of those were ‘entered,’ if that is the right word, in an open invitation, a highlight-will-be-featured kind of event.

Never yet made a cut at any of those,

so I know there is something missing in this place.

I’m just not sure what that is.

So, I’m taking a bit of a break from words just now.

I’m heading out for this three-day weekend,

spending it at the mission,

a reunion with the folks from the school where I am in training for spiritual direction.

I will not be posting or checking facebook for a while.

So to transition myself from too many words to none,

I’ll reflect on Lisa-Jo’s invitation this week with photos from the last two weeks, photos that reflect that intake of breath when I see something wondrous,

delightful.

I am grateful beyond words for these God-given moments of bliss, particularly during this difficult season of slow loss,

the fading away of our moms.

These photos range from a surprising surround-sound sunset as I walked circles in my front drive,

to a glorious pink-flowered tree as I walked in my daughter’s neighborhood on Monday,

to beachside stops for lunch and prayer,

to a few shots of our local-est grandkids.

All.of.it.delightful.

Thank you, Lord, for these good gifts.

Thanks, Lisa-Jo, for this great prompt. Delight is a gift of grace and it’s always fun to reflect on how we meet grace in the everyday.

Check out some of the other entries over at TheGypsyMama:

Filed Under: Family/Travel, God's gifts, Photo Essay

An Early Valentine’s Day (Even Though This Post Is Late)

February 16, 2012 By Diana

Valentine’s Day was a bit of a bust around here.

We were on the road,

tired, cranky, heading home.

Emotional time with my mom for me,

head-warping time with the tax accountant for him.

So we had a tough ride home.

Sometimes the steam collects,

and instead of venting it in small quantities,

over time, it comes out like a TNT explosion,

sending shrapnel bouncing around the place.

As painful as that feels when it happens,

the grace in it is this:

we can get back to center in short order.

In earlier years, that part of the process could take days,

sometimes weeks. This time, we were both able to say, “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. I know this weekend has been hard for you.”

So I spent a little time today, while Lilly was napping (finally!), looking at photos from a truly lovely day earlier this month.

It was a good reminder that in and around the tough stuff,

we manage to make memories that are life-giving and hope-filled.

I started that day with Silent Saturday,

always a healthy, hopeful thing for me to do.

Three hours of centering prayer and reflection,

sitting, walking, thinking, praying.

We were in a different place this month,

crowded out by a large retreat gathering.

Still oak trees of glory,

still room by the creek.

It was a good time, though I was more distracted than usual.

Distraction is the name of the game some days.

Later that day, I picked up my husband and we drove to the tiny town just south of us, parking on the bluffs

overlooking Summerland Beach.

The same place where I sat by myself

and looked long at the sea last month.

The view from up there was just as spectacular.

It was later in the day this time, and quite a bit warmer, so we opted to take a long walk on the beach.

The walkway down to the sand was lined with bright yellow wildflowers, the angle of the light exactly right.

If you’ve followed my blog at all,

you’ve seen lots of pictures of the bluffs along this stretch of coastline. Rosy gold to rich coral in color, beautifully eroded with striations, even large cave-like openings,

they epitomize central coast natural architecture.

Single shorebirds showed up at various points along our venture – this curlew, a lone pelican on the water, a cormorant sticking to the rocks even when pummeled by the waves.

The rock formations – above us to the north and sprinkled throughout the water to the south (yes, our beaches face south on this peninsula) –

are wonder-filled and beautiful.

As we walked back, the horseman we had seen from the bluffs came galloping by us, heading home;

a teenaged boy carried driftwood back to his friends,

busy constructing something wondrous.

The sun was not yet down, so we climbed into the car and drove a little further south, heading to a favorite restaurant, recently under new ownership, a place where you can eat outdoors, picnic tables and thatched umbrellas spread across a lovely lawn while the kids play in a nearby designer sandbox.

And we relished those burgers, oh yes, we did,

as the sun slowly sank into the sea.