Hannah and I used to go down to Okanagan Lake when the big blow came in from the west. She learned at an early age that the bigger the wave, the more she had to lean into it. She's an adult now but she still takes the "big waves" in her life head on and tenaciously grapples with her God where some of us would pack it in and go home.
How lovely are your dwelling places O God
My soul longs, even yearns for the inner courts of the Lord
My heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God
The bird also has found a house, and the swallow a nest for herself
Where she may lay her young
How blessed are those who dwell in your house!
Psalms 84: 1-4
God! You are my God. I seek you with all my heart.
My soul thirsts for you, my flesh longs for you
In a dry and parched land where there is no water....(Psalms 63)
Those who put their strength in You are blessed
Those who have set their hearts on pilgrimage
As they pass through the Valley of Weeping, they make it a place of springs
Yes, the early rain covers it with blessings, they go from strength to strength
before every one of them finally appears before God in Zion. (Psalms 84:5-7)
IMG_2202- woodland walk
"But alone in distant woods or fields, in unpretending sproutlands or pastures tracked by rabbits, even in a bleak and, to most, cheerless day, like this, when a villager would be thinking of his inn, I come to myself, I once more feel myself grandly related and that cold and solitude are friends of mine. I suppose that this value, in my case, is equivalent to what others get by church going and prayer. I come to my solitary woodland walk as the homesick go home.............This stillness, solitude, wildness of nature is a kind of thoroughwort, or boneset, to my intellect. This is what I go out to seek. It is as if I always met in those places some grand, serene, immortal, infinitely encouraging, though invisible, companion ......and walked with him." (Thoreau, Journals, 1857)
When I was young my father used to play hide and seek with my brother and I in the fields behind Grandma and Grandpa's. To the east rose the shadowed flanks of Big Mountain where seemingly endless freight trains would often sway and creak around its base. I can still hear the haunting whistles echoing against the formidable walls of rock, then fading, as I lay hiding in the tall grass hoping to be found. I am still reminded of my father's loving presence whenever I see or hear a train.
I do hope, with my heart of hearts, that these precious memories and experiences are more than some childish whim or silly sentiment, more than just distant, chaotic, and even meaningless dreams soon to be extinguished by the demands of a grown-up world where "evolving" adults outgrow their need for love and a sense of belonging. In the end, when I have nothing left and I am possibly all alone, I will still be waiting and hoping steadfastly for the Father of fathers to find me, (and why not all fatherless ones who harbor secretly the fantasy to be found? ), to seek me out with His loving presence, to scoop me up laughing out of the grass with those big arms that are mine, and bring me home...................
IMG_4984 - When You Be Beside Me
In the place my wonder comes from
There I find you
Your face shines in my sky
In your heart where the world comes from
There you will find me
Your eyes dance in my mind.
Come with me
We will sail on the wind
We will sway among the yellow grass
When you be beside me
I am real.
Though my eyes be closed forever
Still I would find you
You shine across my time
In the place my wonder comes from
There I find you.
"Love Song" - Bruce Cockburn's version of 14th century composer, Gilles Binchois' "Love Song"
IMG_3651 -the beach
A somewhat normal beach scene in many ways but, for me, it wonderfully illustrates the Kantian notion that we humans are meta-physical bipeds - as pilgrims, we plod along with one foot in the everyday finite, material world while the other restlessly yearns for the infinite and eternal, for the place to which we ultimately belong............ I have always seen the beach as a metaphor, as that mysterious place that draws the two together to rendez-vous and play in secret ............as a place to let go with wild abandon and become fully human, fully ambulatory, and maybe as a place where one's feet might even get wet.................
IMG_3728 - Light
As photographers, we spend much of our lives searching for light. I can't help but hope that, at the end of our journey and looking back, we will have found it....................
"The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing [for home] - to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from - my country, the place where I ought to have been born.........." C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone
my hope comes from Him
He alone is my Rock and my Salvation
He is my fortress, I will not be shaken
My salvation and my honor depend on God
He is my mighty Rock, my refuge.
IMG_2966 - Wonder
What is left when the sense of wonder or awe is lost? What would life be like without beauty and the sense of beauty? And for what purpose does the sense of beauty and awe serve? Pragmatically, evolutionary science and the game of "survival of the fittest" would have culled it out eons ago. Yet it still remains innate and bursting with creative energy in the human psyche. That special light or the natural wonder that moves my spirit and makes it soar comes from some place much larger and more sophisticated than I am and, perhaps, even calls out my name. I suppose I will spend the rest of my life answering..................
The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in need of anything,
He makes me to lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside quiet waters,
He restores my soul for His name's sake........Psalms 23
Currently existing as a 24"x16" gallery wrap
Keep Me Burning
We stayed up late one night on Murtle Lake to watch the full moon rise over Central Mountain. It was like the hush after a Grand Symphony. There was no need to say anything. We all knew what the other man was thinking. And Harv did what he always does when his spirit is moved - he played his guitar. The crisp notes laughed and tumbled out into the midnight air like an overflowing mountain brook at spring run-off.
Lord of the starfields
Ancient of Days
Here's a song in your praise
Wings of the storm cloud
Beginning and end
You make my heart leap
Like a banner in the wind
O love that fires the sun
Keep me burning
Lord of the Starfields
Sower of life
Heaven and earth are full of your light
Voice of the nova
Smile of the dew
All of our yearning
Only comes home to you
O love that fires the sun
keep me burning
"Lord of the Starfields", Bruce Cockburn, 1977