Road-Trip Throwback

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This is a panoramic that I snagged on my way back from a wedding in Eagle, Alaska. The wedding was amazing! It was two friends I’ve known for some time that were getting married. Pictures are the threads that hold my memories together. Even one memorable picture ties to hundreds of thousands of wonderful memories. Every memory with every friend is something I treasure.

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An Interlude

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Such an amazing, beautiful thing that is often overlooked.

Breaking up the Weekly What routine with a poem:

Strolling briskly,
I pass some grass,
Shining brightly,
Covered in frost.

Though my fingers
I cannot feel,
The sight strikes me
As quite surreal.

Onto my chest,
I lay down flat
To see, up close,
The grass’s mask.

For a moment,
I am stunned
By the beauty
Of creation.

As I must leave,
Reluctantly,
I thank the Lord
For all I see.

I pause a bit,
Slowly thinking,
And then rephrase
What I was praying:

I thank the Lord
For all I see,
But also for
What is unseen:

The frosty air
Would dare blind me!
The wind would blur,
fog engulf me.

My Savior came
And died for me,
He is the Christ:
My King, unseen.

I walk inside,
Shake off the chill,
As I wonder
And ponder still.

One cannot help
But see beauty
In creation…
Give God all glory.

Weekly What? Week 8

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A picture of Pioneer Peak from the Butte

Another year has come and gone. My memory isn’t all that great, so I only remember things that really stood out to me; those moments most likely included friends or family. The best memories are those we share with others.
I thank God, my Savior, for every single memory, for helping me through thick and thin, for guiding me through the dark and the light, for His wonderful creation and amazing plans, and for who He is: The epitome of true Love.

Here’s this week’s riddle (if you follow me on Instagram, you already have the answer):

A dark night, broken by light,
Booming sounds, and firelight.
Cheerful voices sing on high,
Praises to my Jesus Christ.

Back, I look, upon the path
We’ve traveled from the distant past;
Each day moves by so blinding fast;
People and places, I wish, to last.

But now we must see it set;
The clouds and sky are all alit.
This day is done, another yet;
Keep moving forward, never quit.

Stay safe this 2016, and keep moving forward. Live your life for Christ and never give up.

If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there Your hand shall lead me,
And Your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fallfnon me,”
Even the night shall be light about me;
Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You,
But the night shines as the day;
The darkness and the light are both alike to You.
Psalm 139:9-12

Joyful Joy

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Sunshine in leaves

There’s something about the joy in a smile
That brings a few tears to my eyes.
It’s a little silly, I’m not quite sure why,
But my heart overflows with delight!

A smile, a laugh, in the midst of sorrow,
Is a magnificent, wonderful show!
A dazzling light amongst the shadows;
In the dark, blissfulness glows!

A beautiful contrast, ageless and fair,
That warms us all to the core.
The jovial voice after years of despair:
This joy is from my Dear Lord!

Love from a friend, in its due season,
Brings joy to the deepest of grievance.
Every smile, a graceful achievement;
The beauty of God’s benevolence.

The True Hero

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Who is a true hero?

He stands at the front of the battle line,
Alone, when all others have fled.
Frost forms in the fox holes at night:
The true hero’s cold, awful bed.

Darkness continues to engulf the field,
Accompanied by firework light.
In the trenches, there’s no coffee or tea.
The true hero’s rest is not kind.

Stars look down on the sadness and fright
In every soldier’s own heart.
Their spirits are weary of the terrible fights;
The true hero’s hope is a spark.

In the shadows, the moon sheds the twitterlight
For all to see only smoke.
Fires burn across the ground and the sky;
The true hero’s tears only choke.

Dawn of the day begins with the shouts
Of guns, tanks, bombs, and war.
There is no peace in battlefield sounds;
The true hero’s peace is yours.

Sorrow of sorrows! Agony so ripe!
The loss of a comrade, dear.
No greater love than to lay down his life:
The true hero’s motive is clear.

Soldiers in pain, their fears never end;
They look to the hero to unite.
But on who does the hero truly depend?
The true hero’s sight is on Christ.

Shattered

What happens when everything falls apart.

What happens when everything falls apart.

Pieces fall from a broken sky:
A million tiny diamonds.
Tears fall from a place up high:
Shattered little moments.

Every piece holds something dear,
Glimmering in the sun.
Each, a memory, once so near;
Now only distant reruns.

Try to put them back together;
A hopeless, endless task.
Leave them there for another,
To admire as they pass.

One up high, who holds the key,
(To mend the broken sky)
Waits for some to come and see
What shattered dreams look like.

Bumblebee

Hey everyone. So it’s been a while since I’ve updated my blog. What can I say? Life happens. I have decided that there are priorities in my life that make a 365 project impractical. I have learned for next time though. I also have an idea for what I want to do for next time.

As for my photography, even that has been lacking. I’m going to try to get things posted, but I’m doing a half-marathon, along with working full time, and just general business is all going to limit my time.

Gotta focus on the task at hand, like a bumblebee! Took this one out in the garden earlier.

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Humble Bumblebee