The comfort of familiar faces

Posted on April 20, 2016 by hopesquires

As we walked through the garden together, my dear friend and I, we took turns catching each other up on our lives—our joys, recent celebrations, fears, day-to-day struggles and successes. This is what good friends who live on opposite coasts do when they get together.

We were in Atlanta for an annual meeting of our husbands’ company. While the employees met, a group of spouses walked a few blocks away to visit the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. If you’ve followed this blog for awhile, you know how much I love gardens, and this one in particular is one of my happy places.

April is a beautiful time of year to visit the gardens, and there’s a new art installation going in. We got to see workers assembling several glass art pieces as we strolled past (I promise to share more in a future post). I love that there’s always something going on in this place to draw in visitors.

Two and a half years ago, I blogged about some amazing plant sculptures. On this recent visit, I missed them, but as I rounded a corner toward the pond, there she was. A familiar face:

Her hair is different now, but she has the same familiar face.

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The essential nature of the field trip

Posted on April 13, 2016 by hopesquires

“The lupines are at their most glorious best right now along the river trail,” my husband said to me after his run. His words changed my plans for the morning, especially once I realized I had not taken the river trail for at least five weeks because of shorter walks while my dog healed. She was ready for a longer walk, and I was ready for a field trip.

We rounded the first corner of the river trail, and this is what greeted us:

A real-life Impressionist painting?

She and I walked the trail together first, and I returned later with the camera. I didn’t want to wear her out with so much standing still while I took photos.

As I walked, I could feel myself inhale more deeply and let go with each exhale a little bit of the tension that had built up in me these last few hard weeks.

Among the sea of purple, I stopped to listen. The wind rustled—a gentle, unceasing caress—through the flowers. Bees and hummingbirds buzzed about, and water rushed by.

I realized I had underestimated the essential nature of the field trip, more healing and more necessary even in adulthood than in childhood.

Purple lupine and other blooms, growing wherever possible along the trail

I loved field trips during school when I was growing up. Whether to a museum, or a farm, or the nearby university, a field trip meant something different and new. My favorite final exam in high school involved a field trip to the art museum so we could choose pieces of art and sit in front of them as we wrote our essays about the artist, the piece, the time period, the art movement of the day.

Field trips take us out of the ordinary, mundane tasks of our daily existence. They refresh, invigorate and recharge us. They teach us to pause and examine beauty we might otherwise miss. I’m especially grateful for this unplanned one.

Poppies are blooming, too, and I love to see them standing out in the sea of purple flowers.

Have you been on a field trip lately? Is it time to get outside and discover what you’ve been missing this spring?

Miles to go before they sleep

Posted on April 6, 2016 by hopesquires

I’m back in California after a week at home in North Carolina. My husband and I were there to help with a 100-mile race that runs along the trails of beautiful Umstead State Park.

My husband is the captain in charge of the remote aid station on the course—one of two aid stations and the only one without electricity and running water. I help out as needed and also take photographs. Saturday’s weather presented challenges, though, and rain kept me under the aid station tent for longer than I had hoped.

The creek may have been happy about all the rain, but the runners got tired of it pretty quickly.

An aid station is a thing of wonder during an ultramarathon, a hive where the full range of emotions can be on display at any given time.

This is probably the most exhausting weekend my husband and I experience each year, but it’s also an amazing testament to the indomitable human spirit (and bodies, too). It has become an annual family reunion of sorts for us, and we look forward to hugging old friends and making new ones with each year’s race.

Though our bodies are crying out for sleep, our minds are busy processing this year’s race and already swirling ahead to what we’ll keep the same and what we’ll do differently at next year’s race.

Because this is the first day back at my computer, it’s my first chance to sit down and do something useful with the 1600+ photographs I took Saturday. I feel like I have miles to go before I sleep, a different sort of miles than the runners faced, but still, a task ahead of me before I can rest.

… and miles to go before I sleep

I hope you won’t mind if today’s post is shorter than usual. I want to get the photos to the runners as quickly as possible to celebrate their accomplishment, to help them remember fleeting moments of the long race, to honor them for their inspirational efforts.

How about you? What tasks do you have that mean miles to go before you sleep? Are you doing them out of love or necessity (or both)?

When forgiveness feels impossible

Posted on March 30, 2016 by hopesquires

Neighbors had warned me of the dog down the street. Over the past several years, the dog has attacked at least three dogs in the neighborhood. I had hoped my dog and that one might never meet.

Three weeks ago, I was walking my dog before dinner, and suddenly the dog came tearing out of its open garage and into the street. It grabbed my dog’s back leg and then pinned her down and grabbed her throat in its jaws. The attack continued for what felt like forever, but really lasted only a few minutes.

While my dog survived the attack, she was badly wounded and had to have surgery the next morning. She has had complications and numerous vet visits since. She is recovering, probably better than I am. That’s the beauty of dogs. They live in the present moment.

My sweet pup, healing and enjoying the sunshine (You can see that weeding the yard was not a priority for me during her recovery. Dandelions will take advantage of a neglectful gardner.)

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A virtual Easter basket

Posted on March 23, 2016 by hopesquires

The last two weeks have brought some dark days for me. I’ve struggled with “Love thy neighbor” and the call to forgive. Wrath, fear and sadness have threatened to overwhelm me. Maybe you’ve been going through dark days of your own?

Holy Week marks Jesus’ darkest days but also His greatest triumph. Our messed-up brokenness nailed Christ to the cross but could not keep Him there. God’s grace is stronger than our greatest failings in ourselves and with each other.

Because of that first Easter Sunday, we are heading through the dark with a promise of light and an empty tomb on the other side.

I’ve been clinging to the beauty of Easter and its cheerful celebrations. Growing up, we always dyed Easter eggs and then hunted for them and for baskets full of delightful goodies.

Today, I give you a virtual basket of Easter goodies. There are no dyed eggs or foil-wrapped chocolates, but these Easter colors are vibrant and worth savoring. May they bring a bit of light into whatever darkness you’re facing, and may they remind you of the unconquerable Light in the garden of the empty tomb.