Tuesday, October 09, 2012

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Wanda's Guardian Angel

Broken record: I can't recall whether I've posted this before.  I think perhaps I posted it on FB.  In either case, this photo captures a little figurine in front of our piano teacher's porch.  (The statue is less than a foot tall, I'd guess.)  The little angel's face is so serene and soulful, I can't help but be drawn to it.   And, yes, I did position the leaf in the background.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Shadow Angels

At the Chiaha Festival last fall, one of the booths featured little homemade angels.  I noticed that they were casting a shadow on the booth tent, so I ran back to my own booth and got out my camera.  But by the time I returned the angel of the light had shifted and angels were less prominently and clearly silhouetted.  A shame.  This is taken from outside the tent.


Nora at the pool, summer 2011

Thursday, August 23, 2012

North Carolina Stingy Creature

A yellowjacket? A bee? What is it?  

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

North Carolina autumn

For the first couple of years of this blog--perhaps longer--I was committed to the ethic that no photo can be in any way doctored.  And then for reasons that escape me now I become committed to the ethic that it's not  art unless I do doctor it.  Both views?  Silly.  In any event, this photo is untouched.  A beautiful warm day in late fall North Carolina.

Monday, August 13, 2012

Looking down

Toothpicks and jack-o-lantern.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Flushed away

Yep.  Another in my series of commode pics.    That afternoon light hits the water perfectly.  It's not my fault porcelain  light and water is so beautiful.   (I don't think I've posted this before.  If I have, let me know.)


I'm having a tough time remembering how I captured these shots.  My best guess:  my kids have a strange glow bulb that turns colors and has a strobe effect as well.  I believe I put it under an ordinary drinking glass and took photos as it changed colors.  Here I made a composite from the four shots.

Don't mean nuthin'.  Just pretty colors.

What you gots here is spiders.

Monday, August 06, 2012

Saturday, July 28, 2012

It's time for a caption!

Any ideas?

"Proof:  I am a giant among men"


"If you make everything miniature, OTHER things look much larger."

From Justcurious:

"Having reluctantly agreed to take the kids to TolkienLand for the day, Bob was further irritated to find that the restrooms were located in Middle-earth."

iron fence

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Zoloft's God

So here's something.  I have a very good friend whose dear wife is a lively and witty woman.  She's bright, full of life, and she's a devoted and terrific mother.  She's a woman of deep protestant Christian faith.  Now in the protestant faith, faith itself--not one's actions--is the key linkage to God.  Right beliefs and, more importantly, a right heart are emphatically central, just essential, to salvation.  But here's the thing.  For (most) Protestants, faith is understood as a gift from God.  We cannot will ourselves into believing.  More, our rotten hearts turn us away from loving God.  By our natures we have as much chance of loving God and believing him in the right manner as a dead man has of resurrecting himself by his own efforts.   And the reward for one's belief--again, a gift from God--is an assurance of salvation.  The assurance isn't simply a feeling (which can come and go), but it's also not just an intellectual proposition.  Faith, after all, isn't the same thing as logic and evidence.  Assurance is a deeply absorbed sense of trust that God loves you and cares for you and has taken you into His bosom.  So it's judgment and belief and feeling all wrapped into a nice cozy Holy Ghost blankie.

By which I mean no disrespect.  Surely that's a wonderful state to experience.

So my friend's wife did all the things that good protestants are supposed to do.  She relied on her faith for her salvation.  She prayed.  She read the Bible regularly.  She went to church faithfully.  She spoke with the pastor and others about her faith.

But the problem was that she simply did not feel assured.  She just couldn't help resist the feeling that she was not one of the elect.  She believed.  Deeply.  She knew that "works" were not the key to her salvation, but she thought that perhaps some sin was impeding a closer relationship with God. So she searched her character, her heart, her actions.  She spoke with her pastor about her doubts.  She read books on faith.  She prayed fervently.   She simply could not shake the doubts that perhaps God's table had no room for her.

Prayer followed by more prayer followed by more prayer.  And yet the gift of assurance simply was not forthcoming.

Now this woman finally went to a psychiatrist because she was so down, and her psychiatrist diagnosed her as having OCD and a tendency toward depression.  His solution was not spiritual but neuropharmacological.

After she started taking meds, this woman realized that Jesus is....well, He's alright with her.

God loves her, and she loves Him.   After all, the Bible tells her so.

Oh the Holy Spirit, it do work wonders.  Sometimes it just needs a little boost from the good doctor. 

The old tree in winter