catching up

I've been a little behind on posting Project 365 shots. I'm not sure how a week slipped away from me, but there you have it. So without further ado, here are the missing week's photos (along with a couple of bonus Instagram shots).

Monday: a photo from my Bible Study.

Tuesday: Emma under our willow tree

Wednesday: Stan's grandma's Bible & reading in the rain
 

Thurday: Fog

Friday: Leftover crafting scraps & prayer time at Chruch

Saturday: Hint of Spring

A poem Chesterton recalls writing as a child:

"I asked through what incantation or prenatal purgatories I must have passed, to earn the reward of looking at a dandelion."

This childhood sense of wonder stayed with him:

And since I have owned a garden (for I cannot say I have been a gardener) I have realised better than I did that there really is a case against weeds. But in substance what I said about the dandelion is exactly what I should say about the sunflower or the sun, or the glory which (as the poet said) is brighter than the sun. The only way to enjoy even a weed is to feel unworthy even of a weed. -G.K. Chesterton, Autobiography 

fog and sunshine

I wrote yesterday about seeing the beauty in the fog... so I tried to live it again today. 

I can still see my baby girl in this one.

“A dead thing can go with the stream, 
but only a living thing can go against it.” 
G.K. Chesterton– The Everlasting Man

Got a little piece of sunshine in my mailbox today from my friend Emilie. If you've every doubted the worth of a handwritten note of thoughts put to paper, it is indeed priceless. Thank you Em. 



The end of this post is near, I promise. In fact, it's here.

in a fog

It was a chilly January day here with freezing fog. The freezing fog left each little blade of grass, leaf and branch coated in white. It was a spectacular morning through the mist. By the time I got my camera out, I'd missed the magic moments of frozen silhouettes across the horizon. However, Torrey and I stopped by an abandoned grocery store in town to snap a few pictures. I stop by here from time to time because I love the color of the painted cement, and the memories of coming down to this store when it was the only one in town. 

I often feel like all of life is a bit of a fog these days. (I've read - and experienced - that this is all a part of the grief process.) But today it was a reminder to see the beauty in the fog, that even when it's hard to see ahead or behind there is beauty and a peace in the moments in the fog.