Even when rhododendrons fall over, they can continue growing, blooming, and thriving. I love what that says about life flourishing in our broken world. This rhododendron trunk not only keeps itself alive but is also supporting moss that grows on it.
Sunlight filtering through bare trees lights up the moss growing on this rhododendron trunk.
There’s almost nothing I enjoy more on a beautiful day than to go for a walk and soak up what nature has to offer. While I often think of this as a drab, gray season, I see many different colors in this photo.
Join me in the hunt for beauty? Where do you see beauty in a broken world? Want to add your own images during the 31-day journey? If so, feel free to comment below with your Instagram handle, and tag your Insta posts with #beautyinabrokenworld. You’ll find me there @pixofhope.
Delicate beauty can bring sadness with it. A favorite flower that fades too quickly. A snow flake that melts immediately on the sleeve of your coat. A well-loved gift that breaks.
Look carefully along the rim, and you’ll see fault lines.
This glass orchid bowl is the latter for me. A truly special gift two years ago, this bowl replaced a first one that arrived shattered. I stowed the new bowl carefully in my china cabinet where I could admire it without needing to move it. Sometime over this winter, fracture lines began to appear.
I don’t dare touch it, but I know at some point I’ll have to take it from its place of honor and throw it away. There’s no point in replacing it, as I’m convinced now—after two tries—the problem is in the way it’s created. So I’ll enjoy its beauty while it lasts, even while knowing it won’t last as long as I would’ve liked.
Join me for the hunt for beauty? Where do you see beauty in a broken world? Want to add your own images during the 31-day journey? If so, feel free to comment below with your Instagram handle, and tag your Insta posts with #beautyinabrokenworld. You’ll find me there @pixofhope.
Crocuses are tiny pops of joy in the early spring garden. My garden is still mostly an empty palette, but last fall, I planted bulbs: allium, daffodils, and crocuses.
I had forgotten about even planting the crocuses until just a few days ago, when a tiny blob of yellow appeared in the garden. Now there are little yellow flowers springing up all around my yard. And I cannot explain the outsized delight they summon when a new one blooms except to say with relief, “Spring will happen this year, too.”
Join me for the hunt? Where do you see beauty in a broken world? Want to add your own images during the 31-day journey? If so, feel free to comment below with your Instagram handle, and tag your Insta posts with #beautyinabrokenworld. You’ll find me there @pixofhope.
Branches dance in the wind. I watch them from a window, hoping for signs of spring on its way. This tree sparkles in the sunlight, and I gasp, fearing more ice. But no, the sun spotlights bare branches, and in looking more closely, I begin to see buds, a promise that the earth is waking up again.
Sunlight on branches fools the eye into seeing ice.
I’m ready for spring. How about you?
Join me for the hunt? Where do you see beauty in a broken world? Want to add your own images during the 31-day journey? If so, feel free to comment below with your Instagram handle, and tag your Insta posts with #beautyinabrokenworld. You’ll find me there @pixofhope.
A year ago today, I ran a 5K in Atlanta, what would turn out to be my last in-person race for a long time. I was there alone, my husband home sick with the flu. The day before, I stood outside in a fierce wind, watching as elite runners competed for their spot to represent the United States in the Olympic marathon. Both of those days, I was surrounded by strangers, all of us screaming for our favorite runners or pushing our own lungs and legs to their limits along the race course.
Today looks very different, although there’s again a fierce wind blowing, what with March coming in like a lion and all. Instead of being surrounded by strangers, my husband and dog are my constant companions. As the pandemic stretches on, along with the agonizing wait for my turn at the vaccine, I find myself looking for the beauty in this broken world.
So here’s my idea: Each day for the next 31, I’ll share an image that carries beauty into our broken world. The beauty may be manmade or Godmade, or it may just bring about a beautiful emotion without being inherently beautiful itself.
Today’s image inspired my plan:
Blue Nautilus by Gretchen Lotz
A nautilus here in the mountains grabbed my attention. What was a sea creature doing so far inland, rising out of the ground against the snow?
I haven’t gone back to visit this sculpture since the snow melted, but I suspect it stands out better against the snow than it would against a grassy field. As I stood admiring it and wondering at it, I resisted the urge to run my fingers along its surface. It was enough to admire it from a distance.
Join me for the hunt? Where do you see beauty in a broken world? Want to join me for the next 31 days with your own images? If so, feel free to comment below with your Instagram handle, and tag your Insta posts with #beautyinabrokenworld.
Full confession: Instagram isn’t totally my thing even though I think it’s perfect for what I’m asking us to do. You can find me there @pixofhope. I look forward to the next 31 days with you as we share where we find beauty in a broken world.
The Flourishing Tree 