Tag Archives: Cards

A Worthy Life

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Some days, it’s easy to mistake the life I’ve been given for something of little value or consequence. In the grand scheme of things, I’m here for a very short period of time, I interact with an absurdly limited number of people and places, and I’m too easily distracted and stymied by life’s inconveniences. I’ll be forgotten soon after I’ve returned to the ashes and dust that formed me. There won’t be any statues of me, or any lasting work of art that I’ll leave behind, no permanent evidence of my existence at all beyond records of my birth, marriage, and death tucked into a file cabinet or digital storage.

But if that’s how I see life, I’ve missed the point. Its goal is not to leave behind a marker to prove I lived or proclaim my worth. The point is to live the sacred time I’ve been given, and to honor the sanctity of all life around me. I’m meant to be a light that illuminates the path for others as they live out their own precious time – and as others have done for me.

Isn’t that more than enough?

Thank you, Martin Luther King, Jr., for lighting the way. And grateful thanks for all the others who have done the same.

You Have Considered…

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It’s a mystery, why life finds us; why do atoms, molecules, cells, membranes come together to form our physical bodies? Why the mind, heart, and spirit that only we can bring to this time and this place – or any time and place, for that matter.

Rejoice in the life given to you, because you are the only one who will ever have it. Find the joy in the dreary days, the pain, the struggle – and especially in the days that seem to hold nothing of consequence.

There are any number of reasons to feel angry, hurt, or bored.

You only need one to live in joy.

A Sled and a Hill

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Sliding

When was the last time you pulled a sled up a snowy hill, jumped on it, and whooshed all the way back to the bottom? Do you remember what it feels like – wind whipping, snow spraying, the sound of the sled against the snow? How many times did you tromp up and fly down the white hill before it was time to go home? Can you remember the sheer joy of it all, or do you remember only the cold feet and hands, the chapped lips? If given the chance, would you grab a sled and do it again?

Of course, it doesn’t have to be a sled on a hill. It could be a tire swing in the back yard, a pile of crisp leaves, waves on the beach, a polished bannister. Floating sticks a la Winnie the Pooh works, or any number of other things. They offer us wonder and drop us into the mystery of this world and our own lives. And that is no small thing.

I suspect that it might be the most direct way most of us come to what is most sacred – the sheer joy that there is this creation, and the wonder that you and I are part of it.

Mailbox Blessings

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Masked Angels by Thom Nordquist (2020)

Every year, Thom Nordquist created a new card. I’m lucky enough to have several of them. This is one that came in 2020 – a lovely piece of art and connection in a time of isolation.

Magi by Thom Nordquist

Thom created the Magi card for an Advent activity – mailing post cards of Advent travelers out into the world to connect the Christ Church community in Plymouth with family and friends near and far a la Flat Stanley.

After Thom’s death, his wife Ellen gave me framed editions of the originals. They are in my work space year round and in my living room during the holiday season.

I admire the artistry in these cards. Even more, I am touched by the effort and intention that went into their creation. They are reminders that love and kindness, regard and concern, can show up in many forms. Such blessings make their way though that holy gate commonly known as a mailbox.

Carded

I have a couple of boxes filled with ones my husband sent, ones my sons created at school or home, and even one with my grandmother’s handwriting preserved inside. I use my favorites as bookmarks long after the day they arrived in my mailbox. They are little pieces of words and images that remind me of the ones who sent them and the occasion for the sending. Cards.

The one above is Saint Matthew, sent as a Christmas card from my mentor and college advisor, John Rouman. He was the one who introduced me to Greek Orthodoxy – something that ended up being the beginning of what would years later become my dissertation. Every time I see this card holding my place in my latest read, I think of him and how he changed my life.

Not all cards are touchstones to such things, but many are signs of care and concern offered in a particular place and a particular time. As I begin this new year, I’m going to take a look at some of them. If you are inclined to do the same, get your stack of cards ready…

The Truth, In Word and Image

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Debbie keeps it in a frame – a card her longtime friend sent to her years back. If you knew Debbie, you’d know this card is so much like her – an equestrian, a good woman, and just enough of a renegade to keep life interesting. That’s the specifics of why this card is so great.

In a general sense, it’s also amazing – a great message to all the girls who will grow up to be women, and all the women who grew from the girls they once were…

Life is an adventure. Be a good companion to those who join you in all the ups and downs – kind, considerate, and prayerful.

Just as important: dare to break the rules that need breaking, don’t be afraid to show strength and courage, and have a hell of a lot of fun.

You are a delight to God. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise – even your own inner critic.

You go, girl!

Thinking of You

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The note came from a friend, with only one sentence inside: This picture has me thinking of you, literally. She’d seen my teapot of blooming nasturtiums; it might have made a leaky mess as a teapot due to a small crack, but it made a wonderful plant pot.

I firmly believe that we aren’t put on this earth for a single purpose, and that our beautiful souls and our God given gifts may find surprising ways to shower love on our neighbors. But even more, I believe that our flaws, our cracks, will point us toward something beautiful that we may never have found without them.

At the Moment

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[Happy Spirit, Tazouz]

She was in residence when I visited Gallery in the Sun nine years ago, living and working in one of the buildings DeGrazia made for just such a person and purpose. She said she wasn’t going to be there long, but loved being there at the moment.

I love the sheer joy she captured in this charcoal drawing. It isn’t just the smile; it’s the light in the little boy’s eyes, and the dance in his body. He is the embodiment of finding happiness in the moment – and offering that happiness back to the world.

None of us are going to be here long. That’s just reality. So why not love being here at the moment? Find the joy and you just may find yourself dancing, too.

Gallery In The Sun

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La Paloma, by Ettore DeGrazia

[To see more of DeGrazia’s work, go to the Gallery In The Sun, www.degrazia.org]

Everything is thoughtfully artful there – even the floors, made with natural stone and cholla cactus slices. DeGrazia sculpted, painted, and constructed this space for the creation of art and the fostering of the human spirit. It is a sanctuary in the Tucson desert, offering quiet and shade. It is an art museum, a studio with artists-in-residence, and a gift shop.

I’d never heard of Ettore DeGrazia until I visited his gallery with my two sons in 2012, but I’d seen many of his images – on Christmas cards, prints, and in a few magazines. I had no clue of the breadth of his work, of his concern that art education be made available to everyone, or his biography. Nameless until that point, true, but still a quiet presence in my life.

I could say the same for the Holy Spirit on most days. Not named or recognized in more than a sense of beauty, peace, and purpose, but patiently and dependably present. On the days that I recognize and name the Spirit, I catch a glimpse of the breadth of grace and holiness that I so often overlook. La Paloma.

It seems fitting that I chose DeGrazia’s La Paloma the day I could put a name and a history to the paintings; it reminds me of my limited awareness and the unlimited graciousness that alights just within its bounds.

So Much Sunshine

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Hester van Huyssteen.

Hester moved from South Africa to Princeton when her husband became a seminary professor. As one of the student managers for dining events on campus (and the only seminary bartender), I’d see her at the occasional faculty function. No matter the occasion, the air felt a little bit lighter whenever she was there.

Dinner at her home was no different. Whether I was there as a guest or there to serve guests, Hester had a way of bringing life and light to all who came through the door.

Some people just have a way of restoring the sparkle in life. Not optimism or humor, really – just a twinkle in the eye and a brilliance to the soul. They come in all shapes, sizes, and ages – and they make the world so much better for being in it.

To hold this world lightly but not take it lightly is a rare and beautiful thing. Sunshine incarnate. When you see such a one, you’ll know it. And your life is the better for it.