Reflecting on Gold….

Autumn can be a tough time for me. Most of our family members have passed on in this season, as if the waning summer corresponded to their waning life energies. I’m tempted to wallow in old grief, to feel a bit sorry for myself, to jump when the phone rings late at night. Then I’ll catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye, or hear an odd phrase that reminds me of a loved one. The happy memories come flooding back and I smile in spite of myself. So I was drawn to this amazing image by my friend Gemma, entitled ‘Living with Gold in the Heart’. She started with a photograph, then worked with the image, adding texture and adjusting the colors and contrast. Some would argue the result is not art. I don’t know about you, but I don’t really care what it’s called, except to say it’s beautiful. Perhaps grief is a lot like this artwork. We start with a stark reality, a deep wound, a searing loss. Perhaps the end of life was far from pretty or noble, even full of pain and suffering. Perhaps death was a relief, both for the person who passed away and their loved ones. We simply need to sleep, to heal, to process what we have endured, and what it means to begin again. We need time to find out who we are now, without someone who was so integral to our identities. Time goes by and we believe we are past the sorrow, until a birthday or anniversary arrives. Worse yet, we creep up on the year after the death, or the year after that. Yet in the midst of all this, there are moments of pure joy, reminders of the happy times. For me, it was a television commercial about Publisher’s Clearinghouse. My father must have returned every sweepstakes entry he ever received in the mail. He meticulously sifted through the envelope, making sure all the stickers were applied just so. Then he would watch out the window to be sure the envelope made it into the mailbox, certain the flag was up to notify the postman his important mail was inside. So as the anniversary of his death approaches, I am given a gentle reminder of who he was, and how he affected our lives. Take time today to give thanks for those who love you, not for what you have or how much you make, but because of who you are, warts and all. Cling to the true treasure of this life, opening your heart to others, accepting them for who they are, here and now. Cultivate joy in your life, even in the midst of grief and sorrow. Spend time with the happy memories, until you see those last, fleeting moments of a long life as simply an afterthought. And always remember, there only one treasure we can take with us, the gold that lives in our hearts. Text by Connie Chintall ©2012, Beautiful art by Gemma Costa, entitled ‘Live with Gold in the Heart’ ©2012, used with her permission.

Reflecting on Blur….

Life is rushing by these days, filled with more activities than are worth mentioning. Like the leaves falling from the trees, my to-do list is never ending. It’s easy to get caught up in the busy-ness of life. So I was drawn to this amazing photo of a dragonfly by my friend David, taken in Connecticut last year. I can almost feel the motion as the dragonfly glides above a tranquil pond. Yet that glide is powered by rapidly beating wings, so rapid that the wings blur in this photo. Dragonflies have always amazed me. During the most frantic periods of my life, a dragonfly appears. I’m talking about times when I always need to be somewhere else, and invariably get caught in traffic. Times when I burn dinner while on the phone longer than expected. Times spent on the computer while vacationing, jotting notes before a dance performance, trying to solve a problem long distance to avoid a trip. Perhaps I have wandered around the corner of a building, looking for a bit of privacy, only to find a dragonfly briefly balanced on the top of a sign. If I remained calm, that dragonfly will linger long enough for me to marvel at the colors and intricacy of God’s creation. If I listen more than I talk, respond rather than react, stop instead of rushing ahead, I am able to embrace the vastness of God’s power, without beginning or end. If we allow the frantic pace of life to overtake us, everything becomes one big blur. We turn into human doings, instead of human beings. All of life loses its luster, becomes drained of color and zest. Take time today to pause and soak in the world around you, to make room for Almighty to work in your life. Give the Holy of Holies your time, your worries, your past, your future. Let go of what weighs you down, what burdens your heart and consumes your joy. Soak in this instant, and accept the gift of life one breath at a time. And always remember when life gets frantic, trust in our Creator, who glides us over our obstacles and smooths our path ahead. Text by Connie Chintall ©2012, Photo by David Buckwalter ©2011, used with his permission. To see more of David’s work, go to http://www.buckwalterphotography.com/

Reflecting on Treasure….

It’s a cool, clear morning on the last day of summer. The slanting sun casts long shadows across the lawn. The air is still and all the earth seems to pause. So I was drawn to this amazing photo by my friend Alexz, of Lake Brittle. This lake is the centerpiece of one of our county parks. When my daughter was a toddler, we would often stop at Lake Brittle on the way home, after I picked her up from daycare. I especially liked this time of year. The summer visitors were gone, and there was seldom a boat on the lake. We would wander along the shore looking for treasures, and listening to the insects sing as the evening approached. Then we would head home to make a simple supper, grilled cheese sandwiches or perhaps scrambled eggs. Her collected treasures would sit in a bowl as our centerpiece. Now my daughter is a senior in high school. Life is very hectic, full of class work and college applications. Our calendar seems more crowded than ever. So I am even more grateful for those quiet evenings by the lake, when sunlight softened as the summer ended and the leaves began to fall. Another small child recently reminded me of those simple treasures. A new family visited our church last Sunday, and the youngest son Gabriel sat on the aisle, smiling and happy to be in church. When the offering plate was passed, everyone noticed four acorns in with the checks and cash. Gabriel had placed those acorns in the plate before the service began. I don’t know about you, but I believe those acorns meant more to the Author of Creation than all the money combined. With a grateful heart, a small child offered his all his treasure to the Holy of Holies. We see today what was written in Isaiah long ago. ‘The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them’ (Isaiah 11:6) .Take time today to see the world through a child’s eyes, to hear with a child’s ears. Stop at a local park on the way home and wander, rather than walking or hiking. Allow your heart to guide you, to open your eyes to the wonders of creation. And remember, no matter how hectic life becomes, there is always a simple treasure waiting to be found. Text by Connie Chintall ©2012, Photo entitled ‘Lake Brittle’ by Alexz Jade ©2012, used with her permission. To see more of her work, go to http://azjcphotography.tumblr.com/

Reflecting on Depth….

It’s a cool, autumn morning. I’ve often thought September is the best kept secret in Virginia – the days are still warm, but not humid, with clear skies and plenty of fluffy, cumulus clouds. I recall cross country trips when we camped along the way, seeing sites that remain with me almost thirty years later. So I was drawn to this amazing photo by my new friend Glenn, of a thermal pool in Yellowstone National Park. Everyone stops to see Old Faithful, dazzled by the geyser’s 100 foot plume. Folks stand around and chat, wait for the next burst of boiling water, then wander off, soon to be replaced by another crowd, and another. Few stop to view the rest of the Upper Geyser Basin, full of mesmerizing hot springs. While Old Faithful spews out its water under pressure, these pools quietly dazzle the eye and awaken the soul. A minute algae creates these vibrant colors, an organism that thrives at temperatures we could not begin to tolerate. It seems to me our faith can be a lot like these geysers and hot springs. In the beginning, we seek out mountain top experiences, returning home after a retreat full of energy and enthusiasm. We hang onto that sense of the beyond for as long as we can, but real life has a way of wearing us down. In time, we learn to cultivate and nurture our faith, attaining a more abiding sense of the Almighty in the every day. We learn to dig deeper, to delve into the recesses of our hearts and souls. We recognize our own limitations, and learn to lean on God, understanding that through our weakness we are made strong. Take time today to look beyond the drab colors of your daily routine, to open your heart and soul to the vibrant colors drawn by the Author of Creation. Allow the Alpha and Omega to guide you, to guard you, and yes, to heal you. Embrace the mystery of the beyond, and accept knowledge that is beyond facts, love that is beyond words. And remember, the Holy of Holies is crafting a beauty greater than you ever imagined possible, even when you’re up to your neck in boiling water. Text by Connie Chintall ©2012, Photo entitled ‘Chromatic Pool’ by Glenn Nagel ©2012, used with her permission. To see more of Glenn’s work, go to http://www.nagelphotography.com/

Reflecting on Stone….

The days are getting shorter and the shadows are getting longer. The leaves are beginning to turn, and to fall. Soon our yard will be carpeted with leaves. So I was drawn to this amazing photo of a stone church by my friend Carole. I’m not sure if the leaves are turning, or if the sun is creating the orange tint at the top of the tree line. The vines are far past their prime, yet still cling to the stones. At first glance, this church seems to have lost its vitality. The roof is full of rust, the paint is chipped and fading. Yet in the windows, we still can see a reflection of abundant life. While people may have walked away, God abides in this holy place. My grandmother would say this place is ‘prayed up’, that the prayers of so many have soaked into the ground and even permeated the stones. Where others would see a disused building, she would see the prayers of many who have gone before us, and remain faithful, if not in this life then in the next. We pray to the Infinite and All Powerful, to a God that is, and was, and always will be. Even when we feel lost, when we feel as if our lives are simply drifting along, we remain firmly in the palm of God’s hand, enfolded in steadfast love, without beginning or end. Take time today to shake off the rust in your life, to let go of the withered vines, to cling fast to the stones that abide. Let prayer soak through you, allowing the Author of Creation to show you the path ahead. Trust that new life lies beneath the dreariness of this world, and claim the promise of resurrection life. Start here and now, with one step at a time, trusting that each day is an invitation to begin again. And always remember, we are far from alone, for we have God to lean on, full of strength and love. Text by Connie Chintall ©2012, Photo by Carole Buckwalter ©2011, used with her permission. To see more of Carole’s work, go to http://www.buckwalterphotography.com/

Reflecting on Wilderness….

Summer is drawing to a close, on the Friday prior to Labor Day weekend. Leaves are already falling and the nights are cool. I love to hike or boat this time of year, when the days are still warm but not muggy. So I was drawn to this amazing photo by my friend Sarah Gulick, of her trip to the Amazon last year. This photo offers a haunting beauty, a hint of what that trip might have been like. I often ponder a photo for some time before writing about it, and began to wonder if this photo would ever offer up its secrets. Then a few days ago, Sarah posted a video about hiking in Death Valley. Both the photo and video make you yearn for the wilderness, to let go of the every day, to reconnect with the elements. There is a vastness in God’s glory we can so easily lose sight of, an infinite grace reflected in the Psalms.

10 For the LORD God is both sun and shield;
He will give grace and glory
11 No good thing will the LORD withhold
From those who walk with integrity
12 O LORD of hosts,
Happy are they who put their trust in you!
Psalm 84:10-12

We live on top of one another, crowding out the beauty that God’s creation freely offers. Even in the midst of decay or apparent desolation, we are struck by the bounty of nature, a bounty waiting for us to discover. We find hidden recesses, life amidst decay, creeks that may have changed their course. When we share these experiences, we create lasting bonds, an abiding legacy. We learn about one another in ways we never thought possible, and discover places lost deep within ourselves. Take time today to discover a patch of wilderness in an unexpected place. Look for birds and animals on the edge of a pond, or in a stand of trees along your commute. Walk to work rather than driving, or invite someone to walk with you during your lunch break. Get away this weekend, to hike or boat with family and friends. And always remember, even if you can’t get away, you can take time to see the world through Sarah’s eyes. Text by Connie Chintall ©2012, Photo by Sarah Gulick ©2011, to see her cinematography in the video entitled ‘Wilderness Hike, Death Valley’, go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dClNiEy7Hj0

Reflecting on Infinity….

The first week of school is behind us, without any major problems or concerns. Tomorrow we will spend the day at the lake, probably our last swimming day out before the weather turns cold. As we spend more time indoors, I seem to turn inward, to spend more time pondering the things my mind alone cannot grasp. So I was drawn to this amazing image by my friend Heidi Anne, a swirl of more colors that you can imagine, creating an abstract beauty. I am reminded of a rafting trip in Alaska, where the water was milky from volcanic ash. I look again and see summer squash in tangled vines, moss growing amidst decaying leaves, perhaps rose petals and day lilies. In one image, she offers us the bounty of creation, unfolding and changing before our eyes. The greatest truths of our world are like this image, deeper and more complex than we can begin to see with our eyes alone. The pursuit of truth and faith has unfolded over eons, as we seek the Author of Creation. We must approach the vastness of the Holy of Holies with love, loving God with all our heart, and with all our soul, and with all our mind, and with all our strength (Matthew 12:30). Christ took the first commandment and turned it into a rule of life, a way to open ourselves to the endless mercy and grace of God. We cannot fold ourselves around the infinite; we can only allow ourselves to be enfolded. I don’t know about you, but I like to be in control. I like to be in charge. Yet in this life the human solution offers so much less than what we are capable of through the Alpha and Omega. When we let go, and let God, life flows in a way we never thought possible. Healing light flows into us, then through us, love informs all we do. Take time today to ponder the vastness of creation. Join your heart and soul with your mind, then turn toward the Almighty with all your strength. Let go of whatever burdens you carry, allowing the vastness of God to make your load light. And always remember, when you feel painted into a corner, all you need to do is look up for a way out. Text by Connie Chintall ©2012, Art entitled ‘ Infinite Color’ by Heidi Anne Morris ©2012, used with her permission. To see more of her work, go to http://www.heidiannemorris.com/

Reflecting on the Crest….

It’s a sweltering hot day, one better spent indoors if you have air conditioning, or on the water if you have access to a boat. So I was drawn to this amazing photo by a good friend of a building wave, far from shore. I love how the water looks all the more blue against the golden sky, with wisps of fog up against the shoreline. I owned a small sail boat in years gone by. I loved to watch the water and the sky, adjusting my path to the currents and winds. Perhaps those sailing experiences colored my view of this building wave, until a recent surgery forced me to contemplate my own mortality. I began to ponder how this life relates to eternal life, and what it means to pass on. Then last week an old and dear friend passed away, after over 90 years of abundant life, a life of service to others. Our current experiences are all we know, all we can fully grasp in the flesh. Who among us does not strive to leave a mark, to make a difference, to leave a lasting legacy that extends beyond the grave? There is no one who can offer their experiences of eternal life. Any notion we have of what happens after death is pure speculation, limited by definition. Perhaps this mortal life is simply the crest of a building wave. If God is infinite, all powerful, steadfast love without beginning or end, then this eternal life must be beyond all imagining. Yet I also wonder if the eternal life is here and now. When we let go of the past and the future, when we enter into the here and now, we accept the gift of eternal life, the present. Take time today to celebrate life, to open your heart, to begin again. Stretch beyond what you know, or believe you are capable of achieving. Offer your insights and encouragement to those who share your interests. Build one another up in love, adjusting your path to the winds and currents of one another’s lives. And always remember, although this life will end, love never dies. Text by Connie Chintall ©2012

Reflecting on the Pit….

It’s a quiet, peaceful morning, still cool from last night’s rain. I woke early and took a leisurely walk around the yard with our dog. It’s funny how the same view can appear so different over time, or perhaps the view is the same and it’s me that’s different. Like my beautiful yard, this amazing art by my friend Jeanne seems to defy simple explanation. I have been pondering this work for quite awhile, slowly letting go of the analytical and opening up the emotional. The common thread through my contemplations has been the Pit, so often mentioned in the Psalms. I must admit struggling with how this glorious and beautiful work could evoke the image of the Pit. There have been times in my life when the Pit has been all I could see. There was no way out, no past or future, only the present pain. I lost sight of God, but not before I lost sight of the Godly people in my life. I believe the Psalmist speaks of depression, of despair, of hopelessness. You give up on life and in so doing lose your life. Does it really matter if you physically perish once the Pit has swallowed you up? Perhaps you have suffered from depression, or know someone who has. You may be able to look up, to see the vastness above, while another seems only to see the narrowness of their current situation. We are meant to live in community, to be there for one another, to hold each other up in prayer. When we are caught in the Pit, others can see beyond the pain, slowly bring joy back into our lives, turn our eyes back toward God. Take time today to reach out to others, to hold them in your heart, to pray for their concerns. Let go of judgment, simple solutions, expected outcomes. Simply be there for someone else, or ask another to be there for you. Trust that a healing has been prepared, in God’s time, not our own. And remember through it all the words of the Psalm 40:1-3,

I waited patiently for the LORD;
And He inclined to me and heard my cry.
He brought me up out of the Pit of destruction, out of the miry clay,
And He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm.
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God;
Many will see and fear
And will trust in the LORD.

Text by Connie Chintall ©2012, Art entitled ‘Vortex’ by Jeanne Mischo ©2012, used with her permission, to see more of her work, go to http://jeannemischo.wordpress.com/

Reflecting on Rapport….

It’s a quiet, lazy morning, with my daughter off to camp and my husband at work. I’m enjoying a second cup of coffee, pondering what to do with a day at home alone. I do enjoy time apart, but can’t imagine being on my own for long. So I was drawn to this amazing photo of my young friend Kellen, taken by her father Scott. Kellen has a gift with animals, a natural ease, a connection that goes beyond words. On a recent trip to Ireland, she sat down on a rock wall and these two horses came over to greet her. Scott took a whole series of photos, capturing the unfolding scene. Yet it was this photo that caught my eye. Kellen seems lost in the moment, at one with the horses. There is a zen quality about her posture and attitude, an ability to simply stop and immerse herself in the moment. The rapport between Kellen and the horses is palpable. It almost jumps out of the photo. Sometimes rapport is instant – we meet someone and feel we have known them our whole lives. More often, rapport is developed over time, our sympathies aligning as we know one another better and better. Perhaps we have weathered a crisis together, or forged a partnership working toward a difficult goal. While others were squabbling and tearing each other down, we worked seamlessly together, placing the mission before our personal satisfaction. Yet often the most powerful partnerships involve the most dissimilar pairings. The union takes on a life of its own, and takes us places beyond what we could hope for or begin to imagine. Take time today to look and listen to those placed in your life, perhaps even someone that annoys you. Let go of what you expect a new friend to look like, whether young or old, male or female, human or animal. Let God lead your heart and guide your soul. Pray to see one another through God’s eyes, and to hear one another through God’s ears. Allow room for the Holy Spirit to build a bridge between you, to form a new creation. And remember, when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to embrace the dissimilar, together we can become so much more than the sum of our parts. Text by Connie Chintall ©2012, Photo by Scott Levinson

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