These photos.

Photos lately.

So many of them.

Things keep surprising me and I keep the camera close.

The sky with the passing cloud. The cloud heavy with the rain. The rain dripping on the leaf. The leaf attached to the stem. The stem holding the flower. The flower grabbed by the boy. The boy chasing his sister. His sister smiling at the father. And the father looking at the wife. And the wife wanting to inhale all the thanks and exhale the joy.Deep.Wide.and lovely.

::::::::::::::: even on the hard days. yes.

And all of these pictures seem silly. Like go do something else more worth- it. Like go wash a dish. Like go read a book. Like go hang a towel. Like go fold a towel.

What have I been doing? Taking a picture of that towel instead.

And then thanking God for it.

:::::::::::::::::::Yes, even for the towel.

How He picked the dots silver on the moth wing and how He breathed breeze on the dawn grass glittered swaying with dew and how He furled the fern on the stream running sweet ripples and how He placed each curly hair on his little head so they drip on his brow just right and how He created her smile making her lashes dance and how He gave me

this husband:::

The husband who meets my am-I-taking-too-many-pictures-here look and steals away my camera while I cook

::::::and picks me a rose just bloomed today because I love the vintage smell I cannot explain: just feels like home:

:and he kisses my cheek and unveils the camera from his shirt::::

:::: a picture-kiss of this rosebud:::

:: because he knows I wonder:::

::::if I take too much time with the joy-thanks magnified?

::: thanks kept fresh by the shutter closing still on the moment.

And he showed me his photo.

his gift to me tonight.

::::::::::::: His gift to me…………..

To settle me. Pete’s I-like-that-you-like-this-picture-thing-I-think-it’s-pretty-great- offering of love to me.

Because among our laughter at a song off-key and our chasing around with the hose and the planting of the pretty flowers not all moments are perfect. Like any day. And we had a sharp glance when we misunderstood and we had a word when we were sweating in the sun with rakes and wheelbarrows and kids buzzing and bugs buzzing and needing a fresh drink of water.

                      ::::::::::::::::::::of living water.

That Living Water that spilled over the soil and breathed life into the plants and the animals and streams and clouds, the roses, too::::

All exhaling praise to He who swept sedges across the marshes, He who filled glens with violets and valleys with rivers, He who breathed life into mountains groan-rising out of earth, He who fanned wind across the desert:::::

He who gifted this all-to-His-glory Earth to us to enjoy and savor and taste and see and breathe

:::::::::::::::::::::::: thankful praise out in all things.

And when I take these pictures::::

When I see His love amplified deep in the raindrop dripping praise to Him,

I cannot help but take another.

:::: and when a day gets long and a cloud comes dark,

I can see the love He intends for us when I look through this lense::: this lense of thanksgiving.

112

Creation was made for this! Drench the plowed fields, soak the dirt clods With rainfall as harrow and rake bring her to blossom and fruit. Snow-crown the peaks with splendor, scatter rose petals down your paths, All through the wild meadows, rose petals. Set the hills to dancing, Dress the canyon walls with live sheep, a drape of flax across the valleys. Let them shout, and shout, and shout! Oh, oh, let them sing!

Psalm 65 MSG (biblegateway)

4 thoughts on “These photos.

  1. You know, when I read these post it is obvious the love you and Pete have for each other, the love the Father has for each of you, the love you all have for your children, and my eyes get all misty.Keep writing, it is good.David

    Date: Tue, 18 Jun 2013 15:02:46 +0000 To: djhfly@hotmail.com

  2. Why do I always have brimming tears – okay, and sometimes cascading tears?! I think its your honest raw emotion and beauty you see in the everyday gifts.. I am so so thankful you share how you see the world with me! It’s a gift from you to me – truly.

  3. Honestly, Brooke. The more I read and learn about you the more convinced I am that we are kindred souls. For years, Jim has faithfully brought a rose rugosa to me every morning that they are in bloom, because I love the “vintage smell”. One wilts on the arm of my resting place as I write this. Lovely blog post, dear sister. I will be sharing.

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