My photography Instagram feed is full of beautifully captured, timeless family images taken by other photographers. Although I am sure to check myself and keep perusing to a minimum, as I have found that too much of it leads to comparison over inspiration (our February writings tending well to that conversation) these images naturally bring out the most idyllic moments of being together. And well they should. My growing passion for photography stems from a deep yearning to share with families the beauty of themselves and so prompt an intimate intentionality first with those in our home.
In my glancing I happened upon the stunning work of a photographer in Oregon, where rich browns and creamy hues speak well of the color palette of the pacific northwest, but also reflective of their own families earth rich farm life. Chicken eggs, crocheted sweaters, and beeswax candles are images that grace this talented woman’s page, alongside the occasional photograph of a bundled newborn, wrapped in olive green, sweetly grasping mama’s finger. I was reflecting on how her images, whether viewed one at a time or in the expanse of a portfolio, exude calm and stillness. I wondered if indeed her home is as peaceful as the images she brings to our eyesight.
It was no more than the next day after having considered the thought that she wrote this:
“… I chose to keep this little corner of Instagram that I’ve created a positive place. But I don’t want you to be fooled. We are feeling the weight of this past year just like all of you… This way we are all living right now is not normal. And in case you thought all is perfect and well here … it’s not… But like my husband reminded me yesterday when I had reached yet another breaking point and felt extremely overwhelmed, we need to allow ourselves grace.”
Perhaps you’ve heard this sentiment before, even if using slightly different verbiage:
“I don’t want to make it look like I have everything together. I don’t. That’s why I need Jesus.”
The Jesus part may or may not have been absent, but the initial idea being that we want to be real, honest and authentic with others, even though we have the ability to project a completely different, even false, reality. Where that was once made possible by getting the whole family dressed up and on their best behavior for Sunday morning church, which just about everyone attended, to now being able to simply post the most aesthetically pleasing, or at least the choicest, images to our online presence.
We could get by with that, and admittedly that’s exactly what we do, but also while wanting to maintain that we are flawed, desperate, and un-put together. Just as this photographer alluded, she has done what so many of us do. We keep our virtually social selves relatively free of drawing attention to too many unraveling threads, but with the occasional disclaimer that life is hard and we are in actuality anything but what our hand selected images would present.
I can by no means put myself above this. As I admitted, my mind took it upon itself to ask the question “I wonder if this woman’s home is as peaceful as her images?” only to have the thought rather immediately answered without having to ask it aloud. Although when the answer came, I found myself rather disappointed. After all the musings I’ve done, and shared with you over these last several weeks of writing, I did not find relief in her confession. Although she had her fair share of appreciative comments, I was rather hoping that she indeed could have both exuded and exemplified the peacefulness and stillness that we all long for but cannot find, and so take solace when others feel the same.
And so we’ve created a cycle secure in empathy but short on what our hearts more desperately need.
Now, we do not need to be lied to. We do not need to go back to the old way of dressing our Sunday best when our souls are far from it. What we do need is to see lives that honor the little control they have over situations that we believe would secure our contentment and learn how to live at peace in the midst of all our un-put togetherness. Yet so far as I’ve seen, we are simply happy to know that we are not alone.
When a child tells you they are hungry, you feed them. You may not serve the macaroni cheese that they are begging for, since you know that they need a salad instead. Or if meal time has not quite yet arrived, you will offer an apple rather than the opportunity to fill up on tortilla chips. You know what is best for your child, even if they do not, or at least do not care for it. But you would by no means diminish their need for food, and will gladly satisfy their hunger pangs in the way that you believe to be best.
Although imagine, or for some of you using your imagination is hardly necessary, the child stares at the provision before them and whines. They don’t eat a mouthful. Their hunger is great, but their desire to be served more to their liking is greater still. And so, after having not eaten a mouthful, their bellies still rumbling for food, they promptly go to their neighbor friends and empathize with one another. Thankfully the neighbors are experiencing the same conundrum, and so each take solace in such similar hardships.
Your child even says something profound. Admitting humbly the great need they have for their parents, and when hunger strikes, as it does every day several times a day, their home is always full of food. They acknowledge that they don’t have the money, the vehicle, or let alone the ability to drive, or knowledge of the earth to purchase or grow food on their own. But mom and dad do, and so surely every child needs a mom and a dad.
After such an inspiring speech, especially from that of a child, each little one returns to their home where mom and dad are there with the sustenance needed.
Yet still, they don’t take it.
The child knows their need, and even tells others about the gift of having such loving parents. But when a need is presented, and not just the acknowledgement of that need, but when it is most dire – when their tummy is speaking audibly – the provision is left on the table.
A not put together assertion may well tell the world that you need Jesus, but how do we know that you have him? That calls for more than the reassurance that we are all equally full of questions and longings and brokenness. It calls for knowing that when you have those things, and you will in plenty, several times throughout the day, that you don’t need to remain at desolate craving. Rather that it is possible to thrive. Then you will show that you have more than a need for Jesus. You will show that you have actually taken hold of him.
To end, a personal story.
Four days ago our landlord called my husband with his first words being: “Well, this is going to be bad news for you guys.”
They had decided to sell our home and we need to be about in 45 days. Now 41. As it happens, this has happened to us before, and only two and a half years ago. At the time I was pregnant with our second daughter, and of my many weeping conversations to God, I hoped that perhaps this unfortunate news was to be the ushering in of new opportunities for us. Work in my current role was increasingly difficult to submit to, and Jordan was considering a career shift. I presumed that surely God was not asking us to move for solely the sake of moving when there were other things we desperately hoped for. Yet no new opportunity came into view. No new jobs presented themselves. Rather, a baby remained on the way with no home to bring her back to.
We may not be expecting a little one this time around, but the news feels far more devastating. In the fall of 2019 an unfortunate conversation led to my needing to leave my place of employment, Jordan shortly after prompted to follow suit, our losing a parent only one month after that, and in the new year – well we all know about the pandemic. These last several months have been a severe challenge to our finances, our aspirations for the future, and even our marriage. None have been in jeopardy of being lost, but all have been pushed to a limit not otherwise welcome. So when this news came of losing our home, there was accompanied with it a great hopelessness.
Our life is not nearly as put together as we would like, and perhaps not nearly as put together as our Instagram profile accounts for. We are being reminded in another matter of seemingly unfortunately circumstances that any control we feel we have is merely that – a feeling.
Only close friends, and my mom, will know the extent to which my heart has ached over these last several months. Perhaps you will find reassurance in my brokenness. But can I tell you what this time has also produced in me without my being so quick to stop short at my need?
A reliance on God and others for financial provision in a way that humbles my pride in earning.
A marriage more honest and trusting than perhaps most have the privilege of experiencing.
A perspective on aspirations that has engaged a balance between rest, ambition, and expectation.
An immense humbling towards any thoughts of entitlement.
A deep awareness of how little I know in light of God’s expansive knowledge of the future.
In as much as I have known broken, I have also known peace. The circumstances that determined a need to survive have paved way for an opportunity to thrive. Please don’t hear my words as saying that I have it all together. Rather you should be convinced of quite the opposite. But for your sake, although especially for that of mine and my family —
may I never live in such a way that my un-put togetherness only points out my great need for Jesus without exemplifying what happens when I hold onto him.
EXPOSITION: In all of the un-put togetherness of your life, do you seek affirmation by taking solace in the un-put togetherness of others, or do you look for the examples that showcase the possibility of a life thriving in the midst of it?
RISE: Look for those individuals. Speak to those friends. Discover what it takes to have so little control of life’s circumstances and yet still experience life to the full.
DENOUEMENT: Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4:8-9