As the Shadows Fall

I took this picture from my window as we flew back from Cairns last Sunday night. I had become rather involved with my book as we flew, but looked up just in time to see this golden ribbon of sunlight momentarily resting on Australia before the indigo sky gently pressed it down into the shadows.

In that moment, I became very aware of the space our silver airplane occupied as it moved through the sky in what suddenly felt like slow motion. I thought about all the life that was being lived on the ground below as the darkness gathered--life that is rich and satisfying at times, cruel and heartbreaking at others--and how none of it ends just because night comes. I wondered at what God must see from above that ribbon of light. How many individual circumstances and struggles. How many tragedies, how many triumphs. How many loves and hurts and joys and fears. And how He knows them all. And feels them all. And holds them all in His hands.

"And [my] heart swelled wide as eternity." Because I have a part in that great scene playing out below. And, tiny as my role may be, I am tied to the whole of it.

As the shadows fall, O Savior,

Turn our thoughts and minds to thee.

Help us, Lord, that we may strive for 

Peace, and find our rest in thee.

Grass So Green

We took this picture when we visited Kangaroo Valley last Christmas, and I think it's so pretty.  And so green!

You know that thing about how the grass always looks greener on the other side of the fence from wherever it is you’re standing? Well, I’m here to tell you it’s true.  The grass is greener.

A year ago yesterday, Spencer and I tied the knot. Before finding  him, I had moments here and there (slash everyday) where I wondered if he was ever going to turn up.  Sometimes, in such moments, people would tell me that marriage isn't all it's cracked up to be anyway, so not to worry about it--to enjoy my single life while it lasted 'cause, you know, the grass is always greener. But a year ago, I hopped the fence to inspect the grass myself.  All I can say is this grass is so dang green! Greenest grass I’ve ever seen, I tell ya. 

Maybe I'm still experiencing a bit of a honeymoon phase...? Perhaps it's that I was single into my 30s and had plenty of time (not to mention reason) to wonder if there was ever going to be an end to that chapter of my life--so, now I can look back on my single days and know for sure what I'm missing (or rather, not missing...).  Whatever the case may be, I'm not worrying too much about what's making the grass look this way. I'm just enjoying the view.

Green. As far as the eye can see.

One Day More

Everyday we spend living here, I can’t help but think about how we're one day closer to returning back to a life in the States, which is to say, everyday here brings us one day closer to leaving this adventure behind. Every time I take a run to Shelly Beach, I think about the day I’ll be running on sidewalks on regular streets in a regular neighborhood in regular America. Every time I see the Sydney Harbor bridge and the Opera House, I think about the day we’ll only be able to say, “Oh, we’ve been there,” instead of, “Yeah, we live there.”  

We often talk about how our lives will never again be the way they are right now. And we know that there will be days where we will long for this life when we no longer have it. Still, we feel drawn to what our lives will become on one of those regular streets in a regular neighborhood in regular America.

But right now, we have this life. For at least one day more.