it's stark in here

{other two submissions here and here}

today's picture winter prompt was called "stark raving magnificent".

tracey wrote:

this time of year, the landscapes around us are often stark and barren. whether your world is covered in snow or you're on a white sandy beach (or on an airplane even like i was for the featured shot) capture some kind of starkness today.

think minimal beauty. think simple. think of the bare necessities in getting the perfect shot.

i wish i was on a white sandy beach!! but alas, my world is more like the first example she gave.

my submissions don't really evoke thoughts of magnificence to me... but definitely stark and barren. and you know how fascinated i am by trees! so i was glad to come upon a large, towering {i guess you could say magnificent... sort of} tree on a stark and barren wintery roadside.

it seemed the perfect thing to shoot for this.

ironically, i woke up feeling a little bit of starkness in my heart. not a permanent thing. just a very sad and full-of-inability-to-understand-something sort of feeling. i had a very difficult conversation last night. actually, i hardly spoke, because i was at a complete loss for words. but i listened, and it left me feeling empty and drained... as if a plug was pulled on a container of understanding between two friends.

i sobbed at the thought of all that went wrong to cause that conversation... and my mind went to EVERYTHING it could to make sense of it all, though nothing did. but i went to sleep praying words i was hardly able to utter... "please God. i can not figure this out. take it upon you, as i do not know what to do with it."

i have to believe he will. last time i prayed something similar {about another difficulty in a relationship}, i saw him work in that situation the very next day. and he has been since.

still, i awoke with this sad and empty feeling. but as the day goes on, i am okay with things... praying for grace and understanding and willingness to look at what i have done. one has to do this. without it, bitterness grows. and i know, because i have let it grow in me before. right now, i have no room for bitterness. i don't want it to seep into my baby's little bones.

for the rest of the day, i choose to look at this emptiness as a season that holds its own sort of beauty... just as the starkness of winter can hold beautiful layers of snow and quiet hush.

it is snowing heavily here right now. i will be going out to get some more photos of the blanket of white being woven as i "speak". but first, i've got some chores to do around here, and i'm thankful to God for the time to do them, the home to do them in, the heat that keeps me warm while i do them, and the family to do them for.