Uphill idealist

For the warmth, for the pause, for the need beyond words, for the joy bubbling to the surface... light a candle. Because of the news we read, because there is news we can't bear to read, because there is news we can't wait to share... light a candle. In loss, in abundance, in the in-between, in the hopes, in the pits of despair, and in the embrace of love... light a candle. For its flickering, because it's light carries on even in the darkest of times, in the way it reminds us that we are loved by a God that uses tiny things like water,  word,  bread, wine, wax and wick  to connect with us... light a candle. Image and poem by T.L. Eastman copyright 2015

I've heard the way to eat an elephant - something bigger than life - is "bite by bite". Anne taught me to tackle overwhelming walls of words with this simple advice... "bird by bird". Today it all seems wily... like herding kittens or trying to stuff blown bubbles back in the jar. I need an elephant to chew on or a bird to define, because these wily creatures that are running amok... are not defined, classified, or clear. For now I have lists, post its, emails and conversations that are so bittersweet. I can't consume them. These wily things leave me longing for days filled with Amy's elephants, Anne's birds and my familiar kittens. T.L. Eastman copyright 2015

For the old streets, for the many feet that walk them, for the hands clasped in prayer yesterday and  the hands that join in prayer with and for them now... Gather together, hold each other close, for today is a day where  words fall short... but in support and love we pray and hope for justice. In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.  Romans 8:26 Charleston - we stand with you.

A few years ago, several art friends and I were part of an art project at Rogers Elementary School that helped say farewell to the school. The usage of the school would be shifting to a place of storage and office space and the students would be moving to other locations for classes. Over the course of a month, each student and staff person was invited to create a painting on canvas cloth to mark their favorite aspects of the school: memories, people, classes, and what they learned in their time there.  The image to the left was my painting. The girl in the image is taking a cutting of the plant that grew there and taking it with her as she continues to "change, move and grow." Over the past three years, I've been in the ongoing process of studying with the Theological Education for Emerging Ministry with Wartburg Seminary in Dubuque, IA. This July, I will complete my studies with the program and continue on my journey towards ordained ministry. In going forward in...

There is a trough in waves a low spot where the horizon an only sky and water are our company. And there we lose our way unless we rest, knowing the wave will bring us to its crest again. There we may drown if we let fear hold us within its grasp and shake us side by side, and leave us flailing, torn, disoriented... But if we rest there in the trough in silence being with the low part of the wave, keeping our energy and noticing the shape of things, the flow then time alone will bring us to another place where we can see horizon, see the land again regain our sense of where we are, and where we need to swim. by Judy Brown

Bold, beautiful and busy can be a source of pride, but it can also be a sign of  impatience. Seeking the next best, or always hungry for the next flavor sometimes make savoring what's present a challenge. Taking time to sip water and soak up sun is something that a flower can teach. Impatiens grow easily in the right place. Good soil, moderate sun, moist soil, and regular watering are what they need. Perhaps the balance and moderation of the impatiens life are what makes their colors so bright. Home, light, water = life. I the impatient need to learn from the life lived by the Impatiens. Impatiens are not impatient but somehow... they are bold, beautiful, and proud. Photo and poem Copyright 2015 Tara L.Eastman

In the waiting there are tears and confusion, but there are compassionately held tissue boxes, hot cups of coffee and long embraces. In the waiting there is worry over the unknown but then there is space to consider what else might be possible. In the waiting there are long nights of talking through brambles and burdens, but there are dawns of hope that take us by surprise and show up at the door. In the waiting there is waiting, and waiting and waiting, but there are caring prayers, calls, texts, and conversations unnumbered that full the seconds, minutes and days. In the waiting are moments we never want to live. But once we live them, we learn who we really are. In the waiting we are not alone. In the waiting we are loved. In the waiting we are called to live. In the waiting we know whatever happens, it was worth the wait. Art "Hearing" and poem by T.L. Eastman  Copyright 2015