Life in Photos, Poetry & Words, Theology

Combating the Tyranny of the Urgent

Ethereal portrait at window via Oaxacaborn
Folded hands on windowsill via Oaxacaborn
Ethereal portrait at window via Oaxacaborn
Portrait at sunny window via Oaxacaborn
Aveline holding curtain near window via Oaxacaborn

It’s important to combat the tyranny of the urgent. We must not let it consume us.

It’s important to live slowly enough to see tiny moments; those transcendent moments which stand outside of time and give you a glimpse into something beyond what this world can offer.

This morning, as the curtains filtered the sun, and the light wrapped around my little girl, I couldn’t help but realize I was seeing through a glass, dimly. I couldn’t help but think we are souls, primarily; we are bodies only temporarily. (Side note: contrary to popular belief; that’s not actually a C.S. Lewis quote.)

And so in this moment of shadows and light, of heaven and earth, of beauty both tangible and intangible, there was worship.

“The purpose of theology – the purpose of any thinking about God – is to make the silences clearer and starker to us, to make the unmeaning – by which I mean those aspects of the divine that will not be reduced to human meanings – more irreducible and more terrible, and thus ultimately more wonderful. This is why art is so often better at theology than theology is.” –Christian Wiman, My Bright Abyss, 130.

Poetry & Words


My days are filled with coffee and sleepiness — with morning light, evening light, and the shadows in between. The baby is alternately hyper and tired, filling moments with giggling as well as sobbing. Her breath rises and falls, always a steady rythmn, always a constant hymn humming a reminder of the life which God has given.

Cup of coffee in soft morning light in favourite mug

These are captured moments, frozen still in time by the click of shutter. This is every day, painted in soft hues. I see these moments now like suspended drops of dew, reflecting what the sun has to say by casting diamond shadows on the ground.

She’s enraptured by everything, reaching out her tiny hand to take in the newness of every experience.

Aveline crawling on bed in evening light

I hold her close, breathing in her perfect essence. She fits so perfectly in my arms. I love these moments more than I can tell you.

Sleepy Aveline and Gina in morning in living room on couch with blankets

And yet, these are days of solitude. Josiah leaves each morning, working hard for us. Aveline plays with her basket of treasures while I make breakfast and start the day’s chores.

Aveline sitting near toy basket in morning light in living roomThis is a different life than I’ve ever had before. Not just because this sweet little being has come to be a part of us, but because we have followed the Pillar of Fire to the edge of the continent, here to Florida, the opposite coast of the place we called home. And “the God who has been my shepherd all my life [is my shepherd] to this day.” (Genesis 48:15)

The One who was, and is, and is to come.

Three windows with white sheer curtains hanging crooked and uneven

She is a happy little thing, so peaceful, so content. She looks to us for everything she needs.  It does not even occur to her to become anxious or stressed that we will not care for her tomorrow or the next day.

She just looks to us, in this moment, and trusts.

Aveline playing with blanket doll near toy basket

I want to look to God this same way. Oh Lord, “guarda mi alma…porque en Ti me refugio.” (Psalm 25:20)