It seems a somewhat feeble ending….to end with something old rather than with something new but the last Daily Post Photo Challenge asks us to post favorites.
I wouldn’t classify this as my favorite post but it’s my first one, published in November of 2011, and although I don’t think I’ve revisited it in many years, it still explains exactly why I do this, and it contains one of my early favorite photos:
In the beginning I struggled with content so I found a photo challenge called P52 that another blogger hosted then switched over to the Daily Post Photo Challenge in January of 2013.
Over time the posts and the weeks just sort of piled up, one on top of the other, until six and a half years have gone by.
When I was in my youth I felt like I didn’t need a specific place to talk to God. I could do that in any setting, whenever I wanted to. I can still remember one very intense afternoon when I had that conversation while walking in the woods.
I still went to mass back then but I resisted it. I was impatient during the service, often glancing at my watch to see how much of the hour was still left before I could leave and continue my day.
I’ve grown much wiser in the intervening years.
What a wonderful thing it is, to know someone in one context and then see them in a totally different role.
Last week I spent time with a man who I know as a priest, a military officer and a friend but I’ve never seen him with his family.
Straight and simple, we all lead layered lives.
There’s the life we lead in public. The life we present to the majority of the people that know us. In short, our Facebook life. The majority of the time it’s a filtered life of highlights, funny moments, celebrations, shared causes, and occasionally a request for good thoughts or prayers.
Which brings us to the layers beneath that public life, the layers we so often mask over or try to hide…..our concerns and our trials, our misconceptions, the deepest hurts harbored in our hearts, the crosses we carry.
Therein lies the real truth of who we are and what makes us.
I didn’t write a blog post in response to last week’s “delta” photo challenge because my muse failed me. I looked the word up to try to gain insight. My husband and I talked about it’s meaning in relation to mathematical statistics and I read other’s posts about growing up in delta regions but just couldn’t grab hold of a connection between my experiences and the word.
Posting wasn’t the only thing I almost didn’t do this past week.
I almost skipped going to mass on Sunday. My husband and I had co-hosted a party on Saturday night that had been many months in the planning so waking up Sunday morning and heading out to church didn’t happen. In the back of my mind I knew 5:00 mass that evening was out there but honestly, I didn’t expect to go.
But I did. And there, five days past the day I normally post my blog, I found my delta.
A lock is certainly an outward symbol of security.