Mourning into Joy

Above you see an enhanced photo of a heart I saw in my old wood stove.  It was beautiful--and seems like the perfect beginning to share the wonderful thing that happened on my way home from church  Easter Sunday afternoon.

Above is the original photograph.  

After Easter services, I stopped for takeout from My Beloved's favorite restaurant. He was on my mind so much yesterday--and I wanted to celebrate his life this way. Haha--he really, really loved good food.

As I was waiting in the darkened room at the counter, with its lights beaming down upon me, the young man behind the counter came up to chat. I shared why I was there and who's life I was celebrating.  I noticed then his eyes were full of unshed tears. I was touched--there was something about that kid. So I gave him the bit of "napkin art," I had drawn of Alan as I waited.

Out of the blue he introduced himself  and confided he had just lost his cousin--a dear brother to him. He had returned home from the memorial the day before.

Then Daniel asked how I was able to get through the sorrow, the grief--and I told him. It was a long conversation...and when we were done speaking together, Daniel placed his hand over his heart and with tears sparkling in his eyes he said, "Thank you. You have brought me great comfort today."

I was so moved. To think the awful grief I have been working through would have been such a help to that dear young man...It was a gift--SO sweet to my heart.

I felt God's power in sharing my journey. The words I said came from Him, not me.

Praise to God for His loving kindness and sweetness--for His comfort, that I have the privilege of sharing the comfort with which I have been comforted...God truly does bring joy out of mourning.

The Branch

October 2007, I nearly died.

I contracted a "flesh eating" staph infection in my foot. For three days my doctors were not sure I would make it. I later learned there was a 73 % chance that I would not. If my family had not insisted I go back to emergency when I did, I would have lost my foot, my life--or both.

I knew something was terribly wrong. Though no one had said so I knew I could die. Lying in the hospital bed, not knowing what the future held, I prayed that God would spare my life. I promised Him I would use my artwork to bring joy to people's hearts. I asked Him for a new way of "seeing."

Four months later (still using my cane), in an obscure park in Stevenson, Washington, I shot this photo in a thicket along the edges of the great Columbia River. When I first saw the naturally altered branch in it's lovely setting against those moss-covered boulders, I could not believe my eyes. What you see here is exactly what I saw--only I added two little sparkles to emphasize The Branch.

Since then, I've found even more amazing photos in nature. Perhaps to say that God has given me a special gift of "seeing," is presumptuous, but there seems to be no other explanation.

I am grateful for my life, for the ability to walk unhindered--for the joy of "seeing" hidden pictures in nature. My life will never be the same.