I {LOVE} Sunday::to call to mind and have hope in this...

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.  Lamentation 3:22-23

Every good and perfect gift::on keeping my motives pure...

When Louis bought an inexpensive digital point and shoot camera, the end of my twenty-three years of homeschooling our children was on the horizon, and the empty nest years were in view. It was Louis' hope that a camera would help me fill the empty places that were sure to come in the days ahead.

Ten years and two cameras later, it seems that Louis' hopes became a reality. Many of my photos have been used by both print magazines and online websites. My friend Robbi and I are working with a designer to prepare our book with over two dozen of my photos for publication. And just this week, I've been ordering prints and considering frame options for four of my photographs that will hang in the hallway of the Hendry County Courthouse.

When an image of a tassel flower {captured with that inexpensive point and shoot camera} opened up on my computer screen and piqued my interest in nature photography those years ago, I had no clue or aspirations for where photography would take me. Clearly an amateur and without photoshop, I never considered a watermark on my photos, and that has not changed.  

Please hear my heart in this. The reasons for my decision to not watermark my photos are a reflection of my relationship with the Father who knows my heart and my needs. They are NOT an indictment against photographers who do, but an example of how God works in our individual lives to conform us to the image of Christ.

This is what the Holy Spirit says to me about my photos:

God is the creator of all that is good and beautiful. I might have an eye for uncovering and framing beauty, but even that is a gift from His hand. A watermark is used to claim ownership, and rightfully so, but I am only a steward of the gift. I'll carry nothing with me into eternity. I'm simply capturing what belongs to the Father.  

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.

James 1.17

God is glorified and I'm most satisfied when my needs are met in Him alone. One of the prayers I can count on God answering with a yes every time comes from Psalm 139: 

Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! 

God knows my heart and prompts me to check my motives. He knows my longing to be affirmed and noticed by others - to be loved and esteemed for what I do, and a watermark on my photos can be a way for me to say, look at me and what I can do. It isn't that God doesn't want us to encourage and recognize the gifts in others, but that He wants me to not look to and rely on others for that affirmation. He wants me to be completely satisfied by my relationship with Him and affirmed by knowing that I am fully loved - not for what I do, but for who I am in Christ.  

A watermark doesn't add anything of beauty to my photos. In fact, a watermark can be a distraction. If my motives are pure, I don't want those who see my photos to think, oh look - it's Pollywog Creek. I want others to be inspired to worship and be filled with awe and wonder at the power and beauty of our Creator God. 

What about you? Has God ever prevented you from doing something that is perfectly alright for others, but not for you? 

When I least deserve them...

For one whole week, I worked on an article that I could never make work. One whole week.

I took my laptop with me everywhere. I wrote through the blues, medical tests, the cat throwing up on top of the refrigerator, a cell phone {our only phone} that most of the time won't work inside the house, the return of warm and muggy weather, and half the lights on the Christmas tree going out. 

I'm wondering if the best and easiest thing to do with the tree is to take all the ornaments off and start over. That's exactly what I did with that article.

I deleted the whole thing and started from scratch. 

It's pathetic whining - all of it, I know. On a scale of 1-10, my complaints rate a big fat 0, and I'm embarrassed to admit them. 

Yesterday I left the comforts of my air-conditioned house {still whining} and stood outside in the hot and muggy backyard to talk on the phone when out of the corner of my eye I saw something big land next to the pond. 

By the time the phone conversation was over and I could get my camera {which took several trips back inside because first I realized the battery wasn't in it and then I noticed I'd left the memory card in the computer}, the something big flew away. 

Whatever it was seemed to land near the creek, and though I was still in my PJ's, I decided to venture in that direction. I suspected a hawk and knew it would likely fly further away if I got too close - they always do - but hoped I could get a shot from a distance before it saw me. 

As soon as I spotted him perched on the branch of one of the tall pines at the edge of the creek, I stopped moving. From where I was standing, he was partially hidden by a clump of long pine needles, but I could see enough to tell that he was a red shouldered hawk. 

I took a few photos and began inching closer...stopping every few seconds to take more photos. I was sure he'd quickly take off. It was impossible for me to hide in the clearing between our backyard and the creek, and even if I wasn't wearing pink PJ's, his keen vision would make him aware of my every move. 

I continued to inch closer - past the dog pen, through the gap in the fence, to the edge of the creek until I was right under the branch where this beautiful creature stood.  

I'll spare you the hundreds of photos I snapped from a distance when I didn't expect to get this close. 

When I get discouraged and choose to camp there - for whatever reasons, however petty and insignificant - pessimism sneaks in and I cease to expect anything good. I should know better. Eyes I've cultivated to find and capture mercies become veiled to the evidences of God's grace. 

And when I least deserve them the most, they fly in on the wings of a red shouldered hawk.

I'm honored to be guest blogging at Dan King's {Bible Dude} today - filling in for Sandra King who is in Haiti. I'd love to have you visit me there...and then click on over to Sandra's and read how God is at work through her in Haiti.

I wonder...

In our Pollywog Creek pasture, black-eyed susans dance on tall slender stems to early summer's warm breezes, while clumps of common tickseed and tiny southern fleabane push through the sandy ground along rusty fences and fill the shallow ditches by the road. 

They're common weeds, and come rainy season and the grass grows too tall, they'll be mowed over...and if I didn't have a camera, I'd hardly notice or care.

It's through the lens of the camera that I see beauty in the ordinary - the common weed - and the unmistakable fingerprints of an orderly, powerful Creator. 

And it makes me wonder what beauty I miss in the ordinary lives around me - image-bearers growing in the dry places of every-day life in the trenches.  

Lord, open my eyes to the wonder and beauty in every person you bring into my life this day.

The fair flowers of grace...

"I must try and cultivate an eye for life's mercies... And life, while it has its ugly swamps, its vile weeds, and its sharp thorns,has always its fair flowers to charm the eye with their beauty, or to fill the air with their fragrance..." ~ Rev. John Flowers Serjeant, 1878

It's my Pollywog Creek motto - to cultivate an eye for life's mercies, but sometimes that Pollyanna attitude of gratitude can be hard to hold onto when ugly swamps, vile weeds, and sharp thorns prevail.

Ann calls it the hard thanks - the hard eucharisteo - counting the gifts in the muddy bog of affliction. Paul called it a boasting in weakness for the sake of Christ. Ann knows and Paul knew - it's grace. 

Gratitude and contentment "with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities" is not a resignation in defeat or a lack of faith, but an acknowledgement that the fair flowers of grace are sufficient amid the thorns.

And when the sharp thorns of chronic illness dig deep, I press on with joy, comforted in the knowledge that He promises for the sake of Christ, that when I am weak that He is strong.

This is my comfort in my affliction,
that your promise gives me life.
~ Psalm 119:50



{Photos} a tiny monk orchid - growing wild under an oak tree on Pollywog Creek

A rainy day passage to ponder and proclaim...

“Give ear, O heavens, and I will speak,
and let the earth hear the words of my mouth.
May my teaching drop as the rain,
my speech distill as the dew,
like gentle rain upon the tender grass,
and like showers upon the herb.
For I will proclaim the name of the LORD;
ascribe greatness to our God!
“The Rock, his work is perfect,
for all his ways are justice.
A God of faithfulness and without iniquity,
just and upright is he.
(Deuteronomy 32:1-4 ESV)emphasis mine


{Photos} rain on Pollywog Creek

For the beauty of the earth...

When Susan invited me to her family's ranch to catch morning light sparkle through flowering grasses, I prayed on that pre-dawn drive south down dark rural roads that God would open my eyes to His glory - where ever He chose to display it.  

As morning light diffused the dark, low clouds appeared blanketed across the eastern horizon, dulling the rising sun's sparkles we'd hope to capture. But I've learned - if I only look for sparkling grass, I'll wonder what glory I failed to see elsewhere.    

As I count God's generous gifts in community with Ann, I'm grateful for Christ and the abundant grace and mercy displayed on the cross, without which nothing else matters - and for the multitude of ways God displays His glory, His grace and his love in my life:

...Susan - for her gracious hospitality, for framing my photos on the wall of her lovely home, for driving me around their beautiful property in an ez-go in search of sparkles at sunrise, and for the fellowship and stories shared along the way

...a glorious sunrise over grazing cattle

...spider webs on barb wire fences 

...yellow-breasted meadowlark

...a trio of red-capped sandhill cranes

...fence posts dressed in virginia creepers

...cool breezes on warm afternoons

...a nap on my backyard swing

...quiet mornings on the back porch

...big-eyed tufted titmouse at the feeders

...blue jays, mockingbirds, and cardinals drinking and bathing at the birdbath

...Easter garden flowers blooming still 

...wild poinsettias

...the fruit of palm trees

...oranges ripening 

...white picket fences

...our rural community and the river than runs through it

...the love of family

...the love of friends

For the beauty of the earth
For the glory of the skies,
For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
~ Pierpoint

{Photos} Sherrod Ranch

Green is still the color of August...

There are two reasons I love the month of August: the green-tinted lenses through which we view the rain-nourished world around us, and though it's only a minor seasonal fact that has little to do with the weather, August is the last full month of summer. It's hump-month, and we'll soon be delighting in cooler mornings and pleasant evenings and no mosquitoes. Soon. 

But I also promised myself long ago that I'd never wish my life away in anticipation of something in the future. To not fully delight in the gifts of the moment is both foolish and ungracious, for it's not only all I really have, it's abundantly more than enough. 

A multitude of gratitude for a week of more than enough...

• the color green - dotted with rippening beautyberries, a blazing flamebush, a large hanging basket of summer blue torenia (thank you Patti), dangling clusters of wild grapes, and a grazing brown cottontail 
• my backyard swing
• a lovely afternoon with a kindred-spirit writer friend and a pot of fresh-brewed vanilla nut coffee
• a block-building morning with my favorite four-year-old
• Georgia peaches (thank you Pat and Jane) baked with blueberries in a cobbler for lunch
• more family for lunch and lingering to chew on the Word after eating
• clapping and singing with the sweetest baby girl
• my beautiful Emily - who sacrifices to help me more than ever
• my dear husband - who sacrifices sleep and so much more 
• warm from the oven banana chocolate chip muffins
• dear Marilyn and the prayer shawl she knits and the gratitude journal that passes between us
• Oswald Chambers and Sarah Young and their words that encourage every morning

Related: Green is the Color of August 

Counting thanks in community with Ann. Won't you join? 




Photos: A brief step outdoors a time or two - in the backyard and along the thickets by the creek

Weekends {are for} wanderings...

Weekend Wanderings on Pollywog Creek 

~ with photos that didn't make the cut

My determination to be a more disciplined writer has been severely tested these past two weeks and it's obvious I'm not yet there. Excuses or not, I am in fact once again humbled to be begging for editorial grace on two overdue articles. Blogging will have to wait. 

That I was able to take any photos this week was a miracle. The once or twice I wandered outside with my camera, I pushed through pain - fearful at times that I'd allowed myself to become overheated or wandered too far from the house. 


I'm sure that must sound foolish. Taking photos of flowering weeds and a grassy pond and cicadas on fence posts hardly qualifies as a mission worthy of pain, but photography for me is healing - it's a discipline God uses to cultivate an eye for His grace and mercies in my life for the times I need them the most.  

Without my camera, I would miss the beauty hidden in the tangled thickets along the creek and the delight of dragonflies with their clown faces and sparkly wings, as they pose for me perched along the barb wire - hoping to feast on the skeeters that nibble at my ankles. 

Without my camera, I'd never know God's glory in the pale lavender beautyberry blossoms He miraculously transforms into bright green berries that ripen the most magnificent shades of purple. And if God can turn a long-stemmed leafy plant into a glorious wonder he hides in the thickets behind the wild grape leaves and potatoes vines, then can you just imagine what He will do for His image-bearers - you and me?  

I hope to write more next week about these ongoing physical challenges of mine in the light of God's grace - for He has faithfully and tenderly provided for every single need - from an afternoon in the ER to yet one more funeral. 

But today, I'd love for you to tell me about the places and ways God has been cultivating an eye for His grace and mercies in your life this week.  

You are amazing...

Gypsy Mama Lisa-Jo challenged her readers Friday to write about "wonder"  - for 5 minutes without editing or tweaking.

I didn't participate, but was inspired to reflect on the meaning of wonder as I read Jenny's lovely response (at Rainmakers and Storm Chasers) to Lisa-Jo's 5-minute challenge.




Wonder is my response to things magical and mysterious - to the majestic and miraculous and beyond my understanding. Wonder causes me to pause and be still and to reflect more deeply on what my eyes have seen and my ears have heard.

Wonder sometimes takes me on a journey for answers, but more often I'm simply satisfied to be in awe.

Wonder is uploading a photo, and as an image fills the screen, it takes my breath away, and praise wells up in my spirit, and the only thing I can say is "Wow. God. You are amazing!"




As I consider adding to my list of One Thousand Gifts on this Monday to count multitudes, I am grateful for all that inspires wonder - that leads me to worship the Creator of all that is wonderful and good...

...flowers from Gavin's Easter garden - transplanted and flourishing under sweetgum trees
...steady, soaking rains
...generous and cheerfully-given support for Emily's trip to Burundi (*how can I ever thank each of you enough*)
...our small lifegroup friends
...our pastors and elders and worship team
...unhurried hours with a grandlittle to put chores and deadlines aside and build with legos and play with toy cars and eat homemade ice cream and make absolutely certain he knows he is loved
...phone calls from grown sons
...chocolate birthday cake
...Marilyn's "week three"
...Joyce's time in France
...Sunday afternoon naps
...hazelnut coffee and real cream
...peace - when the security we've known is threatened
...love - that covers a multitude of my sins

Won't you join Ann and other grateful hearts counting thanks together?

One more chance...

We knew our friend's suffering was nearly over when labored and shallow breathing greeted us at the door. For thirty bittersweet moments we said goodbye and grieved the tragic loss of a friend and the pain of those who've loved him long and well, yet we rejoiced that he'd soon be free of disease (and decades-old addictions) that had inflicted without mercy.

Only one week earlier - tethered to a respirator, IV's, tubes and catheters - he was in a moment-by-moment fight against the consequences of those addictions he'd been told were inevitable, and in waking from the drug-induced sedation, he flailed in battle against the demons that demanded what he was no longer able to give. We could only watch and pray and cry and hope. "Please give him one more chance," his family begged.

He said to me, "Son of man, can these bones live?" ~ Ezekiel 33:3

Can a sinner be turned into a saint? Can a twisted life be made right? There is only one appropriate answer - "O God, You know."

The degree of hopelessness I have for others comes from never realizing that God has done anything for me. Is my own personal experience such a wonderful realization of God's power and might that I can never have a sense of hopelessness for anyone else I see?

If the Spirit of God has ever given you a vision of what you are apart from the grace of God...then you know that in reality there is no criminal half as bad as you yourself could be without His grace. 

~ Oswald Chambers (My utmost for His highest June 1)

And one more chance was graciously given - the gift of two full lucid and peaceful days - to breathe the outside air untethered and pet his dog, to eat McDonald's fries and drink mountain dew, and to admit, "I did this to myself." Two more days for "I'm sorry. I love you" and to repair what had been broken. Two more days to secure a place in eternity - the only thing that really matters in life and death moments like this.

As we drove back through the gate here on Pollywog Creek, three hours after those last goodbyes and "Go with God in peace" were whispered, we received the call that our friend had passed through the dark valley of suffering, bondage and death and into eternity with the God of Grace and Mercy and one more chance.

Precious in the sight of the Lord
is the death of his saints.
~ Psalm 116:15

Engaging with Creation...

"In order to glimpse the glory of God
where he hides himself in creation
we actually have to engage with creation."
Bill Walsh

Outside the front door...









Under the live oak trees...










Leaning against a tall pine...










Through the pasture...












Out in the open fields...











Into the backyard...

Straightening the welcome mat and pouring tall glasses of sweet iced tea—with special greetings to those finding their way here thanks to Women of Faith and Patsy's Porch.

Grateful for an unseasonably cool June morning, I slipped on old ballet shoes (quiet shoes, remember), grabbed my camera, and wandered about our few Pollywog Creek acres.

Visitors to our property must wonder what I see worthy of a camera. The colorful glories of spring faded long ago in summer's harsh rays, and the landscaping around our modest home is in great need of attention.

Wildflowers in the fields and pasture struggle to break through the drought-dry topsoil only to wilt lifeless—thirsty and parched.

Rusty fencing needs repair, the creek is barely a trickle, and the neighbor's shed—one side supported by an old toilet—spoils the view across the nearly dried-up pond to the south.

No, it's not the place I'd choose to visit for photographs these days, but it's what God has given me. It's a slice of the world that He has created, and everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving.

So I receive this brittle-dry ground and the unsightly views beyond its fences with much thanksgiving; and I grab my camera, and I ask God to show me glimpses of His glory, the work of His hands, and He never fails to do so.

And as these photos prove, not every photo is stunning or even noteworthy, but that's not the point. The camera is both the brush with which I paint and the tool God uses to open my eyes to the beauty at my feet. It's like Patsy said, "educate your eye". It's how I am cultivating an eye for life's mercies while I wander through the thorns and weeds of life.

What about you? How and where are you seeing the hidden glimpses of God's glory in Creation?