Picture this:
My husband figured out a way to link his photos through Apple TV to our TV screen. They have become our screensaver, moving in into view, lingering long enough for a breath of prayer, then slipping away. There are photos of our immediate family, friends, places we’ve lived, vacations we’ve taken, and photo Christmas greeting cards going back decades. And there are photos of our parents and great grandparents, dating back over 100 years.
I sit in my rocker, still, and simply looking, remembering, and feeling all the emotions that come with those memories. I have to force myself to get up and get moving again, from this time of reflection.
I can remember so many of the places where the photos were taken, and each memory brings those places and people back to life. I am curious about those who died before I was born. I grieve for those who had such an impact on my life and are no longer with us except in spirit. I wonder what my grandparents who lived through two world wars, the Spanish Influenza, and the Great Depression might have to say to us today. I almost burst with gratitude for my spouse, for our children and their spouses, for our grandchildren, for every moment and every person I see.
If not for the coronavirus, Rod wouldn’t have had the time to create this living, changing album. And perhaps if not for the coronavirus, I would take them for granted. But right here and right now, this is sacred space, a time for prayer, for gratitude, holy seeing that is pure gift.
Thanks be to God for each precious sacred moment! May you find the same today.
Anne
Wayfinding 