a faith observed: This is kind of fun...

Friday, October 3, 2008

This is kind of fun...

This is so fun that I thought I'd attempt to post some recent photos. These are from our gorgeous friends, Angie and Miko's, wedding which we attended a few weeks ago. It was a beautiful weekend in Midginbil Hill, and we enjoyed spending time with friends, family, and each other. Andrew took some lovely photos of the wedding party and of Simon and I, too.

4 comments:

katrina lauren said...: beautiful photos!; October 4, 2008 at 3:24 PM
Cass said...: Oh Lizzly, I couldn't be happier that you've started up on your blog again and with such a beautiful post too! Please do keep it up, so we can stay in better touch this way.
We are, yes, in the throes of those "early days" ... this whirlwind of strange schedules and absolute non-schedules ... just trying to get through the days! I thought newborns were meant to sleep alot!! -- um, no! We are so in love with wee Henry though and even when he screams bloody murder it's amazing to realize that he belongs to us and he is the boy we waited to long for.
We will talk soon ... we need to!; October 5, 2008 at 12:56 PM
Marge said...: oh Lizzy, thanks so much for sharing what you are thinking with us. I love you. Mom; October 10, 2008 at 10:27 AM
Sarah Louise said...: what beautiful pictures.

Hopefully it won't take too long for you to figure out who I am.

xo,

SL (librarian in Pgh); October 27, 2008 at 10:58 AM

This is me, a faith observed.

C.S. Lewis writes about the pain of losing his beloved wife, Joy, in his book, "A Grief Observed". In some ways this is my attempt to share my journey through grief and back into life, as the past nine months have been characterized by an immeasurable longing for my beloved father, who died suddenly this past January.

After months of hibernation from the internet, I unexpectedly find myself able to re-begin this blog and connect with my larger community of family and friends. This blog will likely reflect less of the intensity and depth of my pain and more of the simplicity and ordinary joy that keeps my life full - namely days running after our little boy, Simon Pierre. But it is because of the incredible love and presence that defined my relationship with my father, that I feel I can will myself to not just survive each day but to pour that same kind of love and attention onto Simon.

My father was an endless source of strength to me, a pillar of faith. His last words, spoken to my mother as he passed into that which is unseen, "God is good - good all the time", have remained with me through this dark cloud of grief. And when God seems hidden, when justice seems to be losing out, when life is unfair, and when death swallows up the one I most love, I remember my father's words and breathe in this promise, that the God of love is in the process of restoring that which has been destroyed.

And as my father told me in dream I've had since his death, "Look to Jesus. As a father, to point you towards Him is the best gift I can give to you." So here I am, this is me, a faith to be observed.

I hold onto that which is not always seen- the promise of God's goodness, the hope that one day in the promised new heavens and earth- on a grassy hill or a sand covered beach- the lion and the lamb will lie down side by side and I, too, will lie down side by side, next to my father, and we will laugh and laugh until there are no more tears left to cry.