Category: Pay Attention Page 1 of 3

Bounding after butterflies

On 07/23/2024

I love summer. I mean I LOVE summer!!! Tank top, shorts, bare feet, sitting on my deck. Maybe reading, maybe doing nothing at all other than thawing out from a hard winter and stocking up on sun and warmth for the next one.

Which is what I was doing over the weekend – except that I had that bane to modern existence in my hands: my cellphone.

I needed to find something for a small storage shed and could not for the life of me locate what I needed anywhere on the web. And I had spent a lot of time looking. Way too much time, especially given I was on my deck and should have been enjoying the sun instead of getting irritated with online shopping.

Then I caught something dark out of my peripheral vision and looked up as a small butterfly gently floated down and landed less than a foot away from me. It lazily opened its wings and soaked up the heat from the sun.

I closed the web window on my phone, opened the camera app, and slowly turned the phone 90 degrees so I could photograph the butterfly. It sat there for 1-2 minutes which is unheard for a butterfly and I sat quietly next to it, just enjoying it being so close.

The butterfly eventually flew off…and left me contemplating.

I often feel like I take off like that, running on ahead of God like a child ahead of a parent, when it’d be in my best interest if I just walked next to Him and let him lead. That butterfly made me wonder about that image though. What if it is the other way around? Maybe I’m the adult – the too busy, present-minded-elsewhere, jaded adult who can’t see the blessings right in front of her. All around her. I just keep walking right past them.

While God is the more childlike of the two of us, running off ahead of me. But He’s running forward to point out all the beauty I so frequently miss.

“Carrie! Look at this!”

He runs to my right. “And look at these!”

Running past me to the left, He says, “And what about this one? Did you see this one? That one I made just for you.”

All day long he effortlessly bounds from one beautiful thing to the next, one amazing gift after another.

If only I’d look.

If only I’d bound around with Him, oohing and ahhing… stepping on a thistle sometimes, grabbing a thorny rose… but not letting them become my whole focus.

Thistles and thorns exist. They hurt and require attention.

But not all of my attention.

Your voice is a burning bush
Your voice is a million things
Your voice is the sound of thundering hooves
Your voice is hummingbird’s wings
And I don’t want to miss it
I don’t want to miss a thing
“I Don’t Want to Miss It,” Ellie Holcomb

This moment

By Carrie

On 02/02/2024

In Pay Attention

If stepping on a Lego is the pinnacle of pain as a parent, the dreaded bedtime routine is a close second.

How can it take 20 minutes to floss your teeth?

Deep breath, Carrie.

As I was saying, at least in our house, the bedtime routine is excruciating. Chuck and I are wiped out and ready for bed ourselves when suddenly Cody finds an energy reserve previously unknown to man.

And just wants to chat. And chat. And chat.

I have to admit, I haven’t always kept my cool.

Because really, how can it take 20 minutes to floss your teeth?!

I was too tired a few nights ago to ride the bronco (our expression for the bedtime routine), so took my phone and laid down on my bed to read an ebook while Cody flossed…because I had 20 minutes to kill.

Into my room walked Cody, talking around the flosser in his mouth. He climbed up onto my bed and laid down next to me, chatting the whole time.

At which point, it dawned on me just how lucky I am that my teenager still wants to be around me. That he just wants to chat during his bedtime routine. That he still loves to cuddle next to me.

I rolled onto my back and reached for Cody’s free hand. He then contentedly wiggled closer to me while flossing…and chatting.

Sometimes we take photos to document birthdays, weddings, or vacations.

A few nights ago, I decided to take a photo of my child lying next to me while he chatted and flossed. Because flossing only took mere minutes and then the moment was gone.

“We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand – and melting like a snowflake.”
Marie Beynon Ray

The warmth of the sun

By Carrie

On 01/27/2023

In Pay Attention, Peace

Worry is like a rocking chair: it moves you around a lot but doesn’t take you anywhere.
“Overcoming an Anxious Mind” Devotional, YouVersion App

“Three weeks in, three weeks out. Three weeks in, three weeks out.” I found myself repeating that in my head as I was face down, cheeks mashed into the little cutout on the PT table.

I have shoulder surgery scheduled in three weeks and I’m in a lot of pain. Even though PT didn’t heal the tendon, the ultrasound heat alleviates some of the pain so I’m continuing to go to appointments. Three weeks until surgery; hopefully, three weeks after that and the worst of the pain will be over.

As I drove the two miles home from PT on Wednesday, I passed three senior housing/assisted living/memory care facilities. I turned right next to one and I started wondering, “Where will I end up? How long can we stay in our house? Where will Cody be? Who can help us with our house?”

Are you sensing the worry? To reference that first quote, the rocking chair was a movin’!

We live in Minnesota. Minnesota has some serious winters. This winter we’ve had some serious snow. And we have to rake it off our house after each snow fall. Needless to say, that hasn’t helped my shoulder.

So when I started getting anxious about my future living conditions, it was with a torn shoulder tendon and snow and shoveling and roof raking in mind. (Have I mentioned I’m only 49? Yep, I’m worrying about something that will not likely happen for decades. Many decades.)

Amidst all that worrying, God has sent me multiple reminders this week to pay attention to what’s right in front of me instead. I actually read my daily devotional with the rocking chair quote right after I got home from PT…and my drive worrying about my living conditions 30 years from now. Then God sent this beauty:

The same new year

By Carrie

On 01/06/2023

In Pay Attention

I try to avoid looking forward or backward, and try to keep looking upward.
Charlotte Bronte

“Happy New Year!” said Chuck.

“Yeah, whatever,” I replied.

Ok, I was going for the comical effect (mostly).

The new day, the new year, the opening of a whole new calendar. It didn’t look much different from the day before, the day I had seen the above quote about looking upward.

The day before, on December 31st, I had also finished writing out the whole chapter of Isaiah 40. My pastor had read the first verse on November 27th, the first day of Advent. Later that day, I thought, “Maybe in 2023, it’s time to memorize the whole chapter.”

See, I love the book of Isaiah. I have even memorized several verses from that chapter in particular. My favorite is verse 26:

Look up and see:

who created these?

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

By Carrie

On 12/02/2022

In Pay Attention

Welcome to the season of Advent, which means “coming” in Latin. The Christian church designates the four Sundays before Christmas as Advent, a time of waiting for the coming of Emmanuel, another name for Jesus, a name that means “God with us.”

I received several notices of special Advent devotionals on waiting this year. Yet, I realized, this Advent for me is less about waiting for what is to come and more about recovering from what already came this year.

One year ago, we were waiting on doctors and diagnoses for Chuck. And I have already been feeling the PTSD of that waiting and what it led to – hearing “You need another open-heart surgery,” waiting to get it scheduled, waiting for the surgery date to arrive. Waiting during his surgery.

Waiting following a massive stroke right after surgery.

No, I’m not waiting for something this year. I’m needing to heal from all the waiting this year.

Then God gave me an unconventional Advent devotional. I purchased a book called God Is at Eye Level two Decembers ago, and on my shelf it has sat, largely unread. Until it called to me last week, and I reread the subtitle: Photography as a Healing Art.

Yes, that’s the Advent devotional I need this year.

I wasn’t sure how I would use it, but, as I paged through the book, certain phrases jumped out at me. The first being the very first thing written on the Introduction page, a quote:

“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.”
Edith Wharton

Suddenly, I knew that was what I needed to photograph – and I already had the image in my house. For Christmas I set four pillar candles (don’t worry, they’re battery-operated) on an antique organ which has decorative beveled edge mirrors on the upper shelf. I tried framing the photo several ways and finally found the one that was the image representation of those words.

And now I knew how this book on photography was going to be my Advent devotional. And how it would heal me.

An interlude with God

By Carrie

On 05/20/2022

In His Vast Strength (stroke), Pay Attention

“a short period of time when… something else happens,”

“a musical composition inserted between the parts of…a drama“

Last week, I wrote about taking an interlude from grief. On Friday, I decided that I wanted to get dressed up, including jewelry but my necklaces were all tarnished…since I haven’t exactly been getting dressed up much lately. So, sighing, I put on my everyday necklace, the “come so alive” lyrics necklace…the one that started it all, this foolish idea to write a blog.

Cody and I then hopped in the car to drive to school. The CD player is always on in my car, so as soon as I started the engine, the music also started – started playing the song whose lyrics were written on the necklace I had just grumpily put around my neck!

I had excitedly wondered that morning what my joy bomb would be, after a week of paying attention to them. Was it the male and female gold finch eating together at the feeder while we ate our breakfast? Maybe it was hearing that song after very consciously putting on the necklace. If not that, when would it happen? Would He make me wait all day? (Because I kind of have a deadline here, God, on posting my blog.)

An interlude from grief

By Carrie

On 05/13/2022

In His Vast Strength (stroke), Pay Attention

Could you use a break from my grief? I sure could. A respite. An interlude.

in·ter·lude/ˈin(t)ərˌlo͞od/ – An interlude is a short period of time when an activity or situation stops and something else happens. (collinsdictionary.com)

Yes, it’s definitely time for an interlude from grief.

I woke up yesterday morning with a song in my head. I regularly do that and I try to pay attention to the specific song lyrics that my mind sings to wake me up.

Storms within my troubled soul
Questions without answers
On my faith these billows roll
God, be now my shelter

Those lyrics are from “Lord From Sorrows Deep I Call (Psalm 42),” one of the “100 Days” playlist songs, a playlist I thought would get me through the day of surgery and instead seems to be sustaining me through the first 100 days after the stroke.

The one line that was most repeated in my head though was

Sing, oh, sing through the raging storm

Actually, in my head it was more like

“SING, OH, SING THROUGH THE RAGING STORM!!!”

Today’s post brought to you by Cody

By Carrie

On 02/25/2022

In Pay Attention

Chuck and Cody decided they wanted to attract orioles last spring, so they took a trip to the local bird store. A friend had said she attracted orioles with grape jelly; after consultation with the bird store staff, Chuck and Cody came home with a squirrel-proof pole and a little bowl for the jelly. We had previously received a wooden bird feeder, which they added to the hook at the top of the pole.

Add seed and, voila, “Chez Semrow” was open for business.

It’s been a busy restaurant (outdoor seating, you know). I’ve taken to keeping my camera and tripod right by the sliding door, and we’ve had fun trying to record the visitors before they flit away.

Last week Cody came home from school with a printout of a poem he had written. Chuck and I were stunned by it. I know parental pride may influence our perception but, even if it’s not as good as we think, I thought I would share it along with several of the photos we’ve received over the last year.

It’s been a sad week watching world events. So, as they say at the end of the TV show “Sunday Morning,” we leave you with nature. Just pause for a few minutes and enjoy.

**Note: the dark vertical lines on some of the photos are our deck railings.

LIFE AROUND THE FEEDER

A red flash travels past the window
Several seconds later it can be seen at the feeder
A little bowl out in the open
Filled with seed it is a target for many birds.

Cardinals Chickadees House Sparrows House Finches.

Squirrels also sit longingly at the bottom of the feeder with the Junkos
Shells fall from the Cardinal’s mouth as it breaks into the seed itself.

It is a lucky day for those on the ground.

Suddenly another bird appears at the feeder black head and a gray and white body

“Chickadee Dee Dee Dee Dee”.
It's a lucky day for them all.

~Cody, age 11
ComeSoAlive.com

The things I would have missed

By Carrie

On 11/21/2021

In Beauty in the Storm (epilepsy), Gratitude, Pay Attention

What did you think your life would be like as an adult when you were in high school? Did you have specific plans? Is your life filled with things you never could have predicted?

I remember an exercise in high school that instructed us to write out a timeline of goals for our lives, how we saw them unfolding. Schooling, marriage, kids. All the things we think will play out in our lives. I can’t say I followed that timeline of expectations very well, both by choice and by circumstance. All the best planning could not have predicted where I have ended up. Do you know the feeling?

I’ve been trying to learn to let go of planning and to just receive instead. (Yes, I know some of you are laughing – I’ll wait until you’re done).

One great way to do that has been learning about contemplative photography, whose principle is to not “take” shots, but rather to receive an image. Three times recently I have received an image but only in looking at the photo did I really see the whole picture.

I decided to avoid the highway and take the back roads to run errands one day. The greens and blues and peace of the little lake (which I’ve driven past for 20 years) made me stop and back up so I could photograph it. I posted it to Facebook with the caption, “I took the road less traveled.”

Somehow, I missed the fact that I included the side mirror in the image. I was kind of bummed about that because I really only wanted to see the lake. Then a neighbor commented, “I can see your past” and I really looked at the image captured in the mirror. That image was, in fact, my past – the road I had just taken, a road very much “less traveled.” A past that lead me to the beauty I was currently enjoying. That reflection in the mirror actually became my favorite part of the picture.

LIFELINE FRIDAY – Gratitude…when you aren’t feeling it

By Carrie

On 11/05/2021

In Beauty in the Storm (epilepsy), Gratitude, Lifelines, Light and Dark, Pay Attention

Cody had a seizure Sunday night. His seizure-free period went from 51 weeks between seizures down to 10 weeks.

I’m not doing well this week.

I have so many things I want to write but what I finally decided on (what God recommended when I finally checked in with Him, maybe?) was a Lifeline post on gratitude. Because I’m not feeling very grateful right now.

Or maybe more accurately, I note little things here and there but I’m not really fully paying attention to them. And He wants me to pay attention to them instead of only paying attention to the sadness, frustration, and even guilt I’m focusing on instead.

Sadness and frustration about a chronic illness in your kiddo you can probably understand. The guilt is because my son is only having one seizure every 10 weeks. I know parents whose kids have that many by lunch. Every day. So, I feel guilty for feeling sad about something that in relation to others with epilepsy doesn’t seem that significant. Which of course I know my child having any seizures is significant but….and around and around I go.

So “gratitude” came to mind yesterday. Really focus on it. Watch for it, even search for things for which to be grateful. Not to pretend the bad doesn’t exist but to lift my gaze to the light shining all around me even in the dark.

Things like…