A Photo Journey of the Contrasts in my Life

The Contrast of Life and Death:

My sister and I planted flowers on our Great-aunt Lydia’s grave this past week.

The flowers, early sunrise and blue lobelia, were bright, colorful, ethereal. We pushed the square chunks of lobelia root out of their black plastic boxes and laid the lobelia flowers on the soil, deciding where to plant them for best effect. I looked at the drying roots sprawled across the soil. “We’d better put them in the ground,” I said, “before they die.”

Aunt Lydia passed away in December, her body shriveled and old. For seven years after her stroke, she could not speak, and her movement was limited. She lived with the basic functions of heart beat, kidney function, brain synapses, and smile. I am glad she had the smile, at least.

Kathy is pregnant and due in July.

I thought of the contrast: the baby forming in her belly, its tiny perfect arms, its feet, its fingers, its grainy eyelids–and below the ground, a lifeless body lying in a coffin. Strange that one should come so near the other.

The Contrast of Good and Evil:

That evening, my siblings and I, with some friends, hosted a children’s club.

We put children in a room with crayons and bright lights and colorful poster songs and told them a story about Satan in a garden. I thought it strange that we should do this, talk about primitive evil in a roomful of children and coloring crayons. Strange that, somehow, we had made it into a harmless story about a snake and disobedience.

“What are some ways Satan lies to us today?” I asked.

“He tells us we should root for the Vikings,” the red-headed, freckled boy said.

We all laughed.

The Contrast of Young and Old:

My sister Jennie and I took a picture afterwards, sitting on top of the picnic table while the children played. We leaned together and smiled, and then checked out our picture in the camera’s LCD screen. Neither of us were satisfied. “When did I start looking so old?” Jennie said. “Let’s take it again and try to put sparkles in our eyes.”

So we took another one. Jennie did a better job than I of putting sparkles in her eyes. But I tried. I thought it was too bad I have that now-permanent vertical line between my eyebrows. The Chinese face readers say this is a sign of perfectionism and of being too hard on yourself.

I wonder how the Chinese know these things.

I remembered back to when I was young, when I was free from this heaviness that sat on my heart, back to when I laughed and joked and really meant it. Nowadays, it seemed I was always heavy, always responsible, always accomplishing, always overwhelmed.

God did not mean for me to carry such a weight on my shoulders.

The Contrast of Prayer and Despair:

My brother drove me home from children’s club. He asked me about the book he knew I was writing. “How is it coming?”

I shrugged. “It needs prayer.”

And then, because he had opened a door, I cried, and told him my worries. I told him how I struggle so deeply in my Christian life, and how I am twenty-seven years old and should be far past this, and how my younger brothers and sisters are more mature than I am.

He said he struggled, too.

We prayed together.

I felt clean, trusting, whole.

The Contrast of a Turtle:

I thought of the turtle this same brother caught the other day, and how he brought it in to show me.

I took a picture. Then my brother decided he needed to wash the turtle, to make its shell shiny.

Afterwards, it sparkled. The turtle lashed its head around, unimpressed. We drove it down the road and released it into the pond.

This turtle represents many things to me.

Salvation:

It represents my heart and the salvation that God gives me. He cleanses my heart, changes me from dirty to clean.

Joy:

I am going through a time of struggle in my spiritual life right now, but I have struggled before. Always, afterward, I found such joy. Remembering that gives me hope.

Spring:

Now, in the spring, everything is green and new life is everywhere. The turtle and the thought of spring make me think of this Bible verse, which I love: “The flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.” Song of Solomon 2:12

Struggle is a part of life, I think. But so is joy. Winter comes, but so does spring. For every time, for every season, there is a contrast. And these contrasts are what add richness and meaning to life.

For contrasts, I am grateful.