Seeing Good...Wherever You Look

Vandals hit our front door last week.

Of course, it's the type of social disturbance we not only enjoy, but encourage. 

Neighbors doing something nice for each other.

Because we live in a religious area, those in our congregation are looking out for each other. Yes, we all live in close proximity of each other, but for them to take the time to make the cut outs, print the quotes, and attach them to the door...it's a little humbling.

I wonder, if the past five weeks of solitude had not happened, how different things would be. Actually, they wouldn't be "different" than the way they were before. Amazing what a global invisible killing virus can do to a community, a congregation, neighbors, friends, relatives, strangers.

Yes, there's a lot of crap out there, and we can focus on it all day long. But, if you look a little deeper, look through the noise and clutter, you'll see the good--it may even be taped to your front door. 

Yes, the good is as powerful as anything the other side has to offer--even stronger. You just have to look.

Sharing Old Pictures...And What I Didn't Expect To Happen

A couple of months ago I saw an ad on my Instagram feed, and I bit. The ad was for an app called Slidebox. Basically, you use your phone to take pictures of your old slide photographs (remember those...?) and they'll magically be digitized into your Photo Library.

I downloaded the app so at a future date I could dig out my old mission pictures and finally make them available to share and enjoy.

Last weekend, I thought it was time.

I didn't read the small print when I downloaded the app. In order to use it, you have to pay $5.99/mth. Bummer, I thought. But, they had a three-day free trial. I signed up for the free trial and the clock was ticking.

In the next two days, I scanned hundreds of pictures from my mission in Denmark.

I lived in Denmark from April 1985 to January 1987. I took my trusty Olympus OM-10 with me and took a lot of photographs. Because I wanted the pictures to stand the test of time, I had the all developed as slides--I had no way of even imaging the digital photography or storage capabilities of today back then. Slides are great for preservation, but not so great for sharing. Most of the pictures I took back then have never been seen by my family, and that's a shame.

I thought the app would be a way for me to change that. The app was descent, but in order to work well, you need a good backlight system. The best I could find was my iPad. But, there's a problem taking photographs using a computer/tablet screen. The light isn't constant and many times that spilled onto the finished photo. Maybe one day I'll set up a good backlight and try it again.

I converted the slides and posted a couple on Facebook. Just going through picture after picture brought back a ton of memories, but the most bittersweet ones were reserved for those who are no longer with us. I posted a picture of a good friend who passed away many years ago. He died so young with a young family and so much promise. After posting the picture I received a message from his spouse who said she had never seen that shot before.

That's when it hit me--the pictures mean a lot to other people, too. 

I'm going to post more pictures and tag those I can remember. Some may love it--some may find it a nuisance, and some may hate seeing themselves from over thirty years ago. But, for some, the pictures may be a way of communication that's been hidden away for decades, finally allowing others to see them, and after all, isn't that the reason we take photographs in the first place?

When No One Knows...

He didn't.

We know because he's still with us.

She didn't.

She told us why.

Yesterday was National Suicide Prevention Day. There's so many National Day this, and National Day that, that--to be honest--I get sort of numb to it, especially when something as serious as suicide is listed alongside such other National Days like National Doughnut Day, or National Left-Handers Day (okay, that last one is kind of cool, but is in no way as important...).

Yesterday, I sort of ignored it.

That is, until I read a social media post from an acquaintance. I don't know if I'll ever treat the day so lightly ever again.

We all know people who have taken their own lives, or people who have tried. Maybe you're one of those people who tired, or have thought about it. I don't know the statistics--I read a post saying suicide is the most common cause of death for males under 45-years old. I'm not sure if this is worldwide, or in the USA. And, if it's true, it doesn't matter because wherever it's true, it's tragic.

The post he wrote, well...it stopped me cold. I've had friends who have committed suicide and I knew they weren't happy. They'd gone through trials in their lives and some seemed to never recover. Then there's the ones who say the person was always happy--no signs of trouble. But, obviously there were.

In the social media post I read yesterday, the acquaintance explained what happened, and how he went from choosing the day he would end his life, and how things slowly got better. I was shocked reading the words--I had no idea. Since we're not close (we don't see each other much, but I've followed his posts on social media for years...), I had no idea how he was doing other than from what he posted. I kept imagining how shocked I would have been had I opened the computer and read about how he was no longer with us, how he took his life. I would have wondered if I could have done something to alter the unchangeable ending.

I would have come up with zero results, which would make the tragedy that much worse.

We live in a world where pain and hate and fear grow and fester in the hearts of men, women, and children, where these traits are many times celebrated and encouraged. It's taking its deadly toll. I'm so glad this person shared their experience. And I hope I remember it more than just one day a year. May we be more loving, more caring, more brave...may those grow in our hearts instead. 

A Note On Our Fridge At Work...

Right after Hurricane Irma hit, a note showed up at work. As I put my leftovers in the fridge before work began, I saw it and I took a picture of what I saw. It was to remind me of things.

Most of my immediate family live either in Utah or the western United States, so none of them were affected by the recent storms. That still doesn't lessen the impact of the devastation on those hit. It's just that when you don't personally know those affected, it doesn't feel as bad.

As stated earlier, I took a picture of the family to remind me of things. Fortunately, I've never experienced anything close to losing everything you have due to a disaster. As I write this, I look around my room and see a house we built for our family. I see a row of journals I've spent the last forty-plus years writing. I know, when these things happen, we see people say the most important thing is that they survived.

That's 100% true, but still, to lose all your physical possessions--it can't be easy. The picture reminds me that things can be replaced, people can't. Also, it is good to give. This past month has been tough on so many people, and that's just in one part of the world. People have endured disasters, personal issues, and other things that make life a challenge. What makes humanity so great is that we'll survive this, too, and like the muscle constantly used and tested, we'll be stronger because of it. God bless those hit hard by nature the past couple of weeks. And may we remember to do what we can to help them out as well.

What If Things Were Different...

                                    *


Frank heard the phone ring and knew who was calling. "It's Joe," he said to Claire, his wife as he rose from his favorite chair and made his way to the kitchen counter.

"Frank here."

"Hi Frank," Joe said. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"Of course not, son. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing, really. Just home on a Saturday with Jenn and the kids. I was thinking of going down to the CAL Store maybe this afternoon and I wondered if you'd like to go."

Frank smiled and winked at his wife. He placed a hand over the phone and whispered, "He wants to go to the CAL store." Claire smiled at the news. They both knew their son didn't want to go to that particular store (one of Frank's favorites...). He called for another reason.

"Joe...what's up?" His question was met with silence.

"What do you mean," he finally said.

"Something tells me you don't really wan to go to CAL. What's up?"

"Listen, I need a favor."

"You name it." Claire knew just from her husband's side of the conversation what was happening. Joe needed help, again. She watched Frank nod as he heard his son's latest predicament.

"Did you bury the wire? Or is it just above the ground?" Silence. "No, you've got to...I mean, it could have been anything, skunks, foxes, coyotes...even raccoons."

Claire left the kitchen where she was making an apple pie and walked to the door separating the house from the garage. She lifted the keys to Frank's F-150 that hung on a nail on the wall and brought them into the kitchen as Frank continued talking.

"Listen, Joe. Let me come over and see what you've done. It's hard for me to explain what you need to do over the phone. Yeah...no, it's no problem at all. I'll be right over."

Frank hung up the phone, turned and held out his hand to which Claire dropped his keys.

"The coop?" Claire said as she turned her attention back to the pie she was making.

"Yup, the coop."

"Don't be too hard on him," Claire admonished. "These kids nowadays are really at a disadvantage. They don't know how to build a decent coop, or plow a straight line, or rebuild a carburetor. Some can't even milk a cow. Since that whole electronic lifestyle ended, it's like all these kids are lost. I feel bad for them sometimes."

"Me too, Honey," Frank said as he kissed his wife's cheek and headed for the garage. "You know," he stopped and turned around. "I sometimes wonder what they'd do without us."

"Glad they don't have to find out."

"I shouldn't be long."

"Give my love to Jenn and the grandkids," Claire said as Frank left the house and the door closed behind him.

* Photo used without permission from: https://plus.google.com/+MarquesBrownlee/posts/39qiLgghYu8