A Photo a Day Snapshot of 2012

Mid 2011, inspired by a friend, I attempted taking a photo every day, accompanied by a poem, "posting" them on my Word document "blog". When I started my real blog several months later,  doing a photo a day on it appealed to me. So, when the new year began, I started a new blog, A Photo a Day...keeps me clicking away, and went for it. Though I took pictures pretty frequently before then, I missed 8 days through all of 2012.  I did too often end up taking a photo just before bed, mostly near the end of the year when I was at school during the day, but no more than 20 times.

It's fun to look through them, as it's sort of a journal of what was happening then. There are the pictures of the wedding, the church, the spring break trip, the park, summer vacation, the fair, AWANA, Christmas. You can see the seasons changing, and Smeagol weasling his way into the hearts of this dog-person kind of family.

It was a fun experience I plan on continuing this year. This year my goal will be to post better photos, and because of the journalistic aspect, photos that better capture the events of the day-which will encourage me to take pictures more when I am doing things or go somewhere.

Sorry for the terrible formatting. Maybe some day when I have 20 hours to waste and feel like being frustrated I will fix it.

Here is 2012 in a snapshot overview.

January

 

 

February

 

March

April

May

 

 

June

July

 

 August

 

 

 September

 

 October

 

 

November

Faithful in Past and Future

Today is the last day of 2012. That's a crazy thought.

Where were you twelve months ago? Isn't that an interesting thought to ponder? And I don't mean physically only, of course. Emotionally, spiritually, in your relationships, in your thoughts...where were you?

It's amazing how quickly we forget. Things that I thought at the time I'd never forget are now like a dream in the morning-as it hovers in the back of your mind, you can almost recall it, but not quite.

The past year has been full, it seems, with lots of change. I suppose that's always true, and perhaps every year it seems more true than before-again, how quickly we forget. I wonder how many times I have remarked, "That seems like a really long time ago," about something that happened this year. Things as close as September seem long ago. Hey, things as close as the beginning of this month...

Which makes written records fun and interesting.

Perhaps a few of you have read my blog and realized I am quoting myself. The first line actually originally read "Today is the last day of 2011."

Quoting yourself, or hearing others quote you, is an odd experience. It has happened a few times to me this year. It's quite interesting and rather strange.

But that has nothing to do with this post.

Like I said last year, it's remarkable how quickly we forget. I could write the exact same thing I wrote last year and it would be true. Which makes written records fun and interesting.

And challenging. I began this year, and other times throughout the year-indeed, last year as well-with so many good intentions. Yet I failed so much. It is disheartening, yet a happy thought to know that the only way I have changed or endured in any good thing has been the power of Christ overruling my natural tendency to revert to lazy indulgence, selfish self-love, forgetful ignorance.

This has been a year of growth, a year of many new experiences, both very good and very difficult, a year of new and deepening relationships. From simple growing up things like driving a few times, getting a bank account, taking the ACT; to Something to Smile About, to college, to the beginning of the answering of my prayers last year for a deeper love for the Lord, though I have begun to realize how unworthy I am, I have found the Lord faithful. I have been blessed in too many things to name in friendships, finances, schooling, family, possessions, wisdom, opportunities.

So many things I am beginning to understand that never quite made sense before. Things that adults say I begin to understand for myself.

I don't like it when people say generic things like that when you know they have something specific in mind, so I shall elaborate. That is one of the things I have come to understand better: having things that you don't really want to share all of the details. So often I wish people would just say it, because I am curious-I am a Beerbower after all, and I want to know. But having been on the other side, I understand better. Sometimes you want to say it, but it really is wiser not to.

Which relates to another thing I've begun understand. I see myself doing the same things that annoyed me in adults, things that confused me, like why someone would bother to swim for just a few minutes, or prefer watching the running around to joining in, not wanting to even get up from his seat. Things like not having enough time to write an email, even though few people take as long as I do, disliking the snow, or wanting to drive in it, or finding preparing for something a big deal. Many things, like church functions or having people over or taking pictures or getting presents, take a lot more work than you realize until you really see the behind the scenes and consider them.

I have found myself questioning. Questioning what I believe, and why. Questioning what I do, and why I do it. It has been a good experience, for questions are the way you learn. I have been challenged to believe things, not because that is what those around me have believed, or because I have reasoned it out, but because the Word of God says it.

It has been especially sweet this year to see the answering of prayers. As I struggled with certain things, I felt discouraged, and then I realized: God was answering my prayers.

I struggled with frustration over my sinfulness. Suddenly, I remembered last year, asking for a greater desire for holiness, a stronger hatred for sin, and a deeper love for the Lord. He was honoring those prayers!

I struggled with difficulties in friendships and drama, which was difficult because I could not remember having done that before. Yet God uses perseverance through difficulties to give us wisdom, something I have asked the Lord for many times.

I had struggled with my grandfather's death, and, though loss surprises us even after we thought it has gone so that I will probably have to deal with it again, He brought resolution and peace to my mind.

Last year I asked God to bless me with a mentor. This year, I have benefited from the wisdom and friendship of many older girls-and even some younger than I, yet whose fellowship and example have encouraged and challenged me. The blessing of God's people is amazing.

Considering the year ahead, I am excited to see how God will work.  He has given me the desire for wisdom and holiness, for joy and satisfaction, to be useful and encouraging, to bring Him glory, and though I cannot obtain those things on my own, He promises that those who ask receive, and those who seek find. Though I know that my idea of how it will go may be very different than what actually happens, and that many times I will fail in the visions I now have for the walk ahead of me, I smile at the future, knowing that God is faithful.

Things I love about Christmas

I love Christmas. There are many ways and many reasons. It starts long before Christmas, usually around October when we start playing Christmas songs. I love thinking of presents to give people and secretly securing or making them, though I did less of that this year. I love Christmas songs playing at stores and as we clean or whatever around the house. Within a week before Christmas, I don't like hearing any other songs. I love Christmas concerts and Christmas specials. I love caroling and Christmas parties. I love shopping and finding perfect gifts, even when I didn't have much idea. I love wrapping gifts, devising good disguises for easily-guessed presents. I love making Christmas cards, though I haven't done many the past few years.

All leading up to Christmas...

I love Christmas Eve almost as much as Christmas Day. What other day can you find four people secretly wrapping gifts at the same time? Well, that doesn't usually happen at our house either, but for some reason almost all of us left the wrapping until then. Maybe it's because we had a crazy, fun Christmas Adam (see last year's Christmas post if you don't know what that means-you know, Adam came before Eve) and on Christmas Adam Eve we celebrated Melody's birthday.

"Can I borrow the tape for a minute?"
"Are there any more sissors?"
"Got any scraps?"
"I'll have some after I wrap this."
"May I use your pens?"
 "GET OUT!"
"I'll get it. You can't go in there."
"What happened to Mom's present?"
"Did you take that marker?"
"Do you have Grandma's present?"

 I love the evening especially. Our first Christmas Eve service was enjoyable, and taking pictures was fun.

I was asked to take pictures for two families. Scarily, my battery died as I took pictures of the candlelight singing. I had forgotten it was almost dead, and as I had let my friend Parker borrow my extra battery on Sunday and forgotten to return it to my bag, I didn't have an extra. Thankfully, I had my battery charger in my bag, and a couple minutes of charging gave me plenty of time to take some precious photos.

This family has 27 grandkids, all twelve and under. It is also the first photo they have had as a group since there were 10 grandkids. Isn't that awesome? What a beautiful family.

Then I also got to take another family picture, all in red. They looked lovely, though I didn't do as well as I had hoped with them.

Kristen had taken a"wreath" of holly to wear, which was pretty cute. Melody pointed this out to me;  Mrs. Bayly was talking to Kristen as she stood beside her wheelchair. It was adorable.

I love Christmas Eve night. Playing games, commenting on the snow or lack of it, discussing what we'll have for breakfast, setting out the kids' presents and making initial comments, secreting things into stockings, heading to bed.

I love Christmas morning before presents.

Hurrying down as soon as you wake. Discussing who got up first. Finding the presents miraculously multiplied, the stockings filled to the brim (except for Mom's).
 

Listening to Glad playing in the background. Sneaking presents that have been forgotten in from the car. Wondering if we should wake Mom up.

"This is a ton of presents."
"Your stocking is stuffed this year."
"Is Deanna up?"
"Wanna play a game?"
"Is the bread rising?"
"I got up at three."
"Why did you wake me up?"

And then there's the inventory of the presents.

"Oh, here's my scrapbook paper!"
"I wonder what this is...there's coins in this side and something shakes on the other."
"Who is this for? I can't find a name."
"I wasn't feeling very creative. Eric got jipped on his fancy present."
"I know what this is!"
"Hm...this is like a cd disguised with some sort of ring thingie."
"I wonder what book you got Eric!"

Though we joked about just sticking our presents under the tree without wrapping them, this inventory is one of our most enjoyable parts of Christmas presents. Every year Dad decorates a present for each one of us. Melody's is the only one I seem to have gotten a clear picture of us. You can also see mine hidden behind the couch beside it. He wasn't feeling creative this year, though. Eric got a reuse from last year.

For breakfast, Melody made cinnamon bread like we did last year. It is simpler than cinnamon rolls and SO delicious. We also had leftover cranberry bread.

I love praying and reading the Christmas story before presents. Kristen wanted to pray as usual. She started out normally for her. "Thank You what we could open presents." (Like Paul before her, she has this odd habit of using what rather than that.) Then, "...and thank You what it's not about presents but it's about Jesus. Amen."

It was absolutely adorable.

Then Dad prayed and read the Christmas story. We have a book that puts some of the prophesies of Jesus, the story of His birth, the shepherds, and the wisemen, all together in one place which Dad has used the past few years.

I love opening presents. I love getting to see people's reactions to presents I've been waiting to give them.

Deanna seemed to like the headband I got her. At least she wore it all day.

Eric was excited about his hat. He wore it most of the day and called Grandma when he realized he'd left it at Aunt T's.

  

Amy liked her cover. How could you not? It's soft and warm!

Timothy actually did the magic sets that had been passed around for a couple years, so I got him another.

Our calendar wasn't unexpected, but oh well. It was still nice.

If you're having trouble making that out, the caption for October is, Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops.

Kristen loved her glow in the dark constellations as I thought she would.

We had some (no fancy colors and just simple stars and dots, though) when we were about her age, perhaps a bit older. Some of them  are still stuck above my bed and Melody's, and Kristen has asked me about them in that inquiring sort of manner kids have that lets you know they're a bit jealous.

She told Dad they were her favorite present, because they were in her hands when he asked her, and even slept with some of them.

Melody liked her hat too. So did I; I almost didn't give it to her. ;-) It was the only hat of that type at Saver's and exactly what I wanted. It fit her perfectly, and she wore it all day too. And no, I wasn't trying to get everyone head gear. It just sort of turned out that way.

We finally got to show Dad our picture, and he liked it. We aluminyzed it, which means it was printed on aluminum. 

I love understanding finally why people acted the way they did.

For example, Deanna was wrapping my gift which she was excited about. Then she said, "I'm not excited about your present any more." I wanted desperately to know why, but she obviously wouldn't say why. It was a strange sort of present, like a CD shape but with some large ring thing. I kept asking someone to hand me Deanna's, but they didn't see it until near the end of opening presents. When I opened it, it was a headband she had tried to return but couldn't and a note on a CD. She had been giving me Keith and Kristyn Getty's Christmas CD, and apparently when she was going to wrap it, she went to put some music on...and found that CD, which I got for Christmas last year. So she's going to exchange it for another one.

I love Kristen's reactions.

When she saw me put my headband on, she put hers on. If you think the front is interesting, you should have seen the back...

We made her wait to open this one for last. She was patient, but judging by her look, she really wanted to open it.

It was a doll, and she was very excited.

There is much more that could be said, but we shall move on.

I love the goofiness and fun. Paul opened a cool pop-up book, and Dad tried to tell him he was starting in the back, even though that would have made the words upside down...

This is spelled wrong on purpose.

The idea was that it would be thought for the Beerbower girls, when it was really for the Beerbower grill. It was a new grill cover. But we didn't realize it at first, because 99% of the time, something in our family isn't really what the box says.

Speaking of boxes...Deanna opened a generic box and revealed some orange and black cords. "Why did I get this?" she asked.

It was a legitimate concern, considering that there were a number of mislabeled (or one unlabeled...) presents.

"Because you need one," Dad said.

"Oh!" she said. "I thought it was an extension cord!" Meanwhile, Eric had been thinking he needed some jumper cables for his car. Eric opened some later. Dad had taken Deanna's out of the box so they wouldn't know they got the same thing.

I also liked my presents. They decided as they sometimes do that they should take a picture of me, even though my hair was looking odd.

A few of my favorite presents: the snuggie above, in awesome blue tie-dye, the yarn I'm holding to make a scarf, the skirts I picked out at Saver's, the scrapbook paper I picked out at Hobby Lobby, and were given to Melody (we share anyway), tights, especially gray ones, some shirts, my beaded headband, though it made my head sore, a five-subject notebook from Eric for school...and I may just end up listing everything now. Yellow nerds...pens...

I love Christmas after presents. There's the going over of presents, cleaning up (or, in my case, a nap), and then crazy loading up and heading to Aunt T's. Then it's fun stuff: eating-not real eating, but snacking on sloppy joe, Grandma's crackers and dip, scotcheroos, frosting-and then finally eating-ham, corn, seven-up salad, marshmallow stuff in addition to the above-games, talking, more snacking, pumpkin pie, laughing, going to the park, singing (and bellowing and dancing) along with Grandma on the piano, giving Grandma presents.

As always, I neglected to take pictures. Sometimes, I'm too tired, and I've started to realize why people are so thankful when I take pictures. It really does take time and energy, and you do miss things. I never quite understood before, because I enjoy it and didn't feel like it was a sacrifice. At any rate, I rarely feel like taking pictures at Aunt T's.

It's late and dark by the time we take Grandma down to her house and head home. We go into the cold house, looking like after Christmas-sort of empty living room, with presents in piles upstairs and stuff on the stairs, and stuff from Aunt T's soon stuck in the kitchen. Tired from a long day, we go to bed.

We celebrated Christmas Post (see last year's Christmas post) today with another thing I love, Les Miserables, the movie musical. Christmas Post is a sort of fun day, a recover from Christmas, a slow unwind on the good years like this one, crazy cleaning up while you don't feel like doing anything on others.


Christmas is over. Christmas day, that is.

But Christmas continues with Dad's side of the family and Christmas music and probably a few random presents that were forgotten or didn't come yet. It's not really over until January.

Which is good by me, 'cause I love Christmas.

Glimpses by Jeannette

Despite there already being fifty-six posts here, this is the first post on my "new" blog. Jeannette's Blog has morphed into this, and so I decided to take the opportunity to do what I have wanted to from the beginning: name my blog. I'm still not sure that's what I want to call it, but at least it's more interesting than Jeannette's Blog.

A few years ago, someone asked me what I wanted to do. I forget what exactly I said; probably that I wasn't good enough, but I would enjoy being a photographer. "What are you going to name your business?" he asked.

I didn't know. I'd never thought about it.

"Why not? You should have a name for it."

I have thought about it since then. I know what I want, but I don't know how to say it.

Photography is, for me, a record, a way of remembering the way things were. I think that is why, when deleting, there is an optimum time for me: long enough away that I don't remember little things that happened that make me want to keep a picture, yet not far enough away that people look vastly different and, especially in the case of babies, it feels like deleting history.

It is a way of remembering the way things were, but it is also a way of noticing the way things are. Things that otherwise would be overlooked. Taking notice of the beauty of the little things-which I have done as I do my photo of the day, since many days I haven't taken a picture before evening, so I have been forced to enjoy little things about the house. Though I don't usually succeed, if you get close enough or have the right light, anything's interesting.

I love taking pictures of people, especially kids. I enjoy nature as well, but there's something about people. And photography is good for appreciating people. Noticing the gorgeous eyes my little sister has, preserving that cute little Curious George smile my little brother is sure to lose at some point, causing my friend to give me that look of annoyed amusement.

I knew the feeling I wanted my title to convey. The idea of capturing in nature-and by this I mean the natural world, human beings included-a vision of glory. In the eyes of a child, in a group of kids, in a stuffed stocking (Christmas is on my mind, I guess), in a sun-bathed cat, even in a random object on the armoir, seeing a glimpse of God. His creativity, majesty, beauty, order, superfluous kindness. Finding the joy of photography to be because it is a way of showing God.

But what name would convey that? I can't quite explain it, so how could I capture that in one little phrase? Maybe I would just call it Jeannette's Photography. Or Photography by Jeannette, if I feel like switching it up.

I brainstormed. Vision...something with vision? Nah, too...something. Glimpses? Maybe. I considered things like Glimpses by Jeannette, dismissed them, went all the way around a couple blocks, and returned.

Glimpses was about what I wanted, but I wasn't sure how to even explain what I wanted. In a Wink? What I meant was that time is precious, and photographs help us to see that. In a Flash? Nice pun, but no. Just Jeannette's Tiny Glimpses?

I tried designing little logos, which is a fun thing to do. Later I tried playing around with a watermark for fun.

 

I enjoyed trying it out on different pictures.

In the end, I began to think of it as Just a Glimpse Photography. That, or Tiny Glimpses. It's not official, and it is subject to change. But it sort of gets at what I mean.


And as for my blog, it's the same sort of idea. It's glimpses of the heavenly in the earthly, as seen by me. Or maybe more often just a glimpse into my thoughts. I don't know if anyone else finds that interesting, but I always find it an interesting thing to think of. Which is why I like writing things like this, for I realize things I didn't really know I thought.

Some time ago, in an attempt to describe what I meant, and because it's one of the sort of things that is fun to write, I wrote something like what I might have on an about page. I couldn't think of any more puns to put in it, unfortunately.

Tiny Glimpses developed from the shutter-happy fingers of Jeannette Beerbower. Her propensity for snapping away has been pushing the buttons of family and friends since the first digital family camera she got her hands on in her preteen years. As she progressed from family photographer, her love for photography grew. It is her desire to use her photography to glorify God by focusing on, enjoying, exposing, and recording the oft unobserved and quickly forgotten blessings of beauty He gives us in the world and people around us before they flash by.

Happiness

Happiness is many things.

Happiness is a wonderful warm fire with homemade hot chocolate that almost burns your tongue and a soft, fluffy blanket. Actually, most anything is happier with a soft, fluffy blanket.

Happiness is holding a sleeping baby.

Happiness is being surprised by seeing a friend you didn't expect to see.

Happiness is cranberry bread, herb bread, homemade bread, and just about any kind of bread, especially hot bread.

Happiness is hearing Christmas music and the sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen.

Happiness is finding out someone is going to have a baby.

Happiness is the feeling you get when you sit quietly back at a family gathering and observe the cheerful conversations and interactions.

Happiness is getting a present ready in time for Christmas that you didn't think you would.

Happiness is Christmas: Christmas lights, Christmas music, Christmas presents, Christmas smells, Christmas cookies, Christmas caroling, Christmas concerts, Christmas cards, Christmas songs, Christmas stories, Christmas ornaments, Christmas services.

Happiness is having a little kid want you even when his mother comes.

Happiness is singing a song you love that you haven't sung in a long time.

Happiness is expecting to have leftovers and finding your sister made something hot and delicious.

Happiness is giving someone something you have worked hard over and seeing their pleasure upon receiving it.

Happiness is nearing the end of an enjoyable and successful semester.

Happiness is getting a surprise letter or email.

Happiness is completing writing you were inspired to do and are satisfied with.

Happiness is finding someone commented on your blog.

Happiness is many things. I could go on, but you get the idea. This is happiness. It is not joy, which is not reliant on outward circumstances and can be had in very difficult times, as it is reliant on a right relationship with God. But God is gracious and gives us many lesser reasons for contentment.

As you may have guessed, I have a particular reason for writing this.

Happiness for me now is after thinking my blog was ended, finding it may continue.

Yes, due to the wonderful word, "export," I am beginning my blog anew. This is, probably, the last post I will put here, but Jeannette's Blog will continue in another spot, and A Photo a Day will as well, with nothing lost. Not the posts or the pictures or the comments or even, to my delight, the time they were posted. The only thing lost is the statistics, which will not even be lost completely, as I can still look at my old blog.

And exporting my blog does not put the pictures in my new space. And there's good news for all of you: knowing that my space is limited, and not desiring to be destined to starting a new blog (or getting a new email) on a yearly basis, I shall attempt to limit the photos I share on my not-quite new new blog. We'll see how it goes.

So, from now on until I fill up my space again, my blog is this: http://jbeerbowersblog.blogspot.com.
And my photo-a-day blog is this: http://jeannettesphotoaday.blogspot.com.

I am happy.

Pictures

Pictures.

You love them, or you hate them.

Very few attain neutrality, for it is only possible if you avoid them altogether (which is very difficult to do in our visual society), for if you do not love them, you will be annoyed by them. Even if you do. Maybe especially.

Pictures and I have a love-hate relationship. (I usually do not like it when people use that phrase. But that's okay. I'm using it anyway.) Obviously I love taking pictures, looking at pictures, manipulating pictures, some editing of pictures, and scrapbooking pictures. As far as I can think, other than that, I hate dealing with pictures.

You see, pictures are technology, and as you may know, as I have mentioned before, we don't get along. I mean, we also have a love-hate relationship. That is, I love to have technology (camera and lenses I have been wanting...) but it hates working for me.

That actually doesn't quite related to why I wrote this post, nor is it even really true. Give me a break. I wrote it last night when I was really tired and not feeling very well and recently saddened. (Yes, even that line I wrote last night. And this one.) Of course, I would have written the exact same thing even if I weren't tired and sick and saddened, but hey, it makes a good excuse. Kind of like my opinion of how giving kids sugar makes them hyper and being slaphappy. Kids would have been hyper anyway, and Beerbowers don't get slaphappy. We just allow ourselves to be unguardedly goofy in certain situations, which usually happen at night, when you're normally more tired, but it is not uncontrollable thinking that everything is funny.

Although, I actually wouldn't have written the exact same thing if I weren't saddened, for that is the topic of this post.

(You may be surprised to find there is a reason I am writing this. You may not be surprised that it is out of silly frustration, thus the rambling. However, like I explained before, that is just an excuse. Really, I just chose to write it this way because it was fun.)

So perhaps you're wondering what in the world could have prompted such a post. Well, there's news. Whether it's good or bad news depends on your view. As you may have guessed by words such as "saddened" and "frustrated", my opinion is that it is bad. If, however, you are already frustrated by my over-abundance of pictures, you may find it good. If, however, as is just as likely if you follow my blog (or would, if it didn't take so much time) you are frustrated by the overabundance of my words and are glad to have pictures to break them up, it is bad news.

I have run out of space for my pictures. I cannot put any more online.

Well, that isn't quite true. I could. But there is another thing I have a love-hate relationship with. Money. I won't pay for something I can get free. Of course, I can't get it free now, but the statement still stands.

Wait, I thought, I can ask my other blogging friends what they do. Then I realized: no one else puts 300 pictures in a post. No one else uses over 1 GB of storage space for two blogs in just over a year.

By the way, why did I write, "other blogging friends"? What does that mean? Other than my friend, me? Or other than my non-blogging friends? Isn't it obvious that I'm not asking them?

My brother said I could delete my old posts. The thought is horrible. You never throw away old writing (or in this case, delete old posts). "That is like burning an old diary!" I said. By his look, he didn't seem to realize what a tragedy that would be.

My mind turned to A Day Outside. (I am not putting a link to that post lest you are tempted to look at it.) If any post begged for deletion, that one does. Yet even that I hate to delete, if only to remember how stupid I was to post it. Besides, Deanna's comment makes it all worth it. "If someone actually read this long post, I would be like, "Wow! You must be bored!" or perhaps they were put in solitary confinement for 20 days with only this post as reading material." I love it. I mean, I always love comments, but that one always makes me laugh.

All that to say, I am sadly pondering the fate of my blog, especially the photo of a day one, and I may end up having to start a new one.

Just to be sure, let no one read this too seriously. It may be an interesting read for a psychologist. If you can figure out anything deeper than for my own enjoyment for why I wrote what I wrote, you're a leg up on me. Which is a rather strange word picture.

Thoughts of Faith and Thanks

Last Thursday I spent four hours in between classes at the University of Toledo with the college group, standing for the unborn. We had big signs with pictures of abortions and fliers for Created Equal, the organization we work with. We claimed a cross section of Centennial Mall's sidewalks and tried to engage the passersby, challenging their thoughts about abortion.

It is no coincidence that I am posting this on Thanksgiving. I came away from that event with a sense of gratefulness.

Though I have heard a number of presentations on abortion, this was the first time I had done this. As with many things, I wasn't nervous until I got there and I realized what it would be like.

We didn't get into a conversation for a while, but when we did, I forgot to be nervous at all. I didn't have a large number of conversations, but I had a few that were quite long. The first guy was a legal sort of guy. He argued that we shouldn't worry about abortion until we can take care of the kids, and didn't think the legislation could be changed. Another guy said that it wasn't murder to kill someone if they didn't have brain waves, and that they could measure them.

Those type of intellectual people I find harder to relate to and have any sympathy for than people like the girl who didn't really like abortion, but having many friends in the foster care system, she didn't want more children to grow up without a loving home. Thinking of the kids I know who could be in such a situation, I sympathized with her. "It is hard,"  I agreed, "yet who are we to use the quality of life a child will have as an excuse to kill? A child who is dearly wanted may, after some misfortune, end up in child services, and a child who is not may have a wonderful life in an adoptive family. We don't know." She said she would think about it.

The most interesting conversation I had was with a guy who at said first that we were 19th century and needed to progress. But as I talked with him, he genuinely seemed to want to understand. He didn't like abortion himself, he said, but he thought that everyone should make their own decision. I asked him about killing other people, and he asked me what I thought about killing animals. I asked him what he thought of God. He said that he thought God was in everything. I told him what I believed (which meant that I thought animals should be treated well, but that humans have much more worth) and told him that, while I was glad he thought murder was wrong, in his worldview, it didn't make sense for him to do so. If we evolved, who's to say that killing someone is wrong? He said a couple times, "You seem to be making sense. I don't know. Maybe you are right." He also said he would think about it.

The last conversation I had was with a girl who said abortion wasn't wrong in the first trimester. She pointed to the picture of the baby at 13 weeks old, and agreed that it was definitely a baby and killing it would be wrong. But she thought that until later, when they have arms and legs they are not a baby. She pointed to the picture of a sperm and egg. "That's not a baby." She said she was a Christian, she goes to church, and she was emphatic that the Bible was the Word of God, completely true.

So I referred to Psalm 139, how God knows us before we are formed in the womb, and how in Leviticus it treats causing a pregnant woman to lose her baby as murder. She said that God knows that they were going to have an abortion and He forgives us. I agreed that God forgives us so much, so generously, but if we accept that Jesus died to forgive our sins, how can we knowingly sin? If He must forgive us, that means that it was wrong, and He calls us to holiness. If we love Him, we must not sin.

She had to go to class, but she said I was interesting to talk to and she would consider what I had said.

What I was left to consider as it ended were mainly two things.

First, the impression I had was sorrow. Sorrow over the complacency. The people who didn't want to talk, and said they had never considered abortion. "Have you thought much about abortion?" we would ask. "No," would often be followed by, "I've never been in that situation." Sorrow over the angry reactions. After an older lady was asked what she thought of abortion, she said, "I don't have an opinion, but-" and her voice rose high and angrily and she got into our faces- "I don't think people should PUSH their views on others!!" It was sort of shocking; we felt that an older lady should agree with us. "I wondered if she had grandkids," my friend asked. "I feel like anyone with grandkids should be against abortion."

That feeling of sadness influenced that other feeling that still comes when I consider that day. The feeling of gratitude.

Time and time again, at some point in every conversation, I felt I could say no more than, "I believe that God created the world, and made humans in His image, which means that murder is wrong. The Bible says it, so it's true." And I sometimes did. But they don't believe Scripture is true, and frustratingly I realized I could not convince them. No evidence against abortion, no testifying of the inerrancy of Scripture will change their minds.

dead in your sins

That keeps returning to my mind. Dead in your sins. Suddenly I understood that phrase in a way I never had before. Of course I knew we were dead in our sins, we needed Jesus to make us alive. But now I could see: we are dead. We cannot believe. "Though one were to rise from the dead" we would still not believe.

"And you He made alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins... But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ" (Ephesians 2).

I knew that we were dead and had no desire to live. But being impressed with how we cannot accept the truth of the gospel; imagining others' thoughts and seeing the gospel's foolishness to the world; finding that much as I wanted to, I could not convince them of the truth because the prince of this world has darkened their eyes; the greatness of the gift and how it is such a gift became more clear. I have not relayed these things very eloquently, but the distinction between how I knew that before and how I realized its truth afterwards is something that, like faith, you cannot understand unless you have experienced it.

What do I have what these people do not? They are presented with the same information as I; why do I accept it and they do not? I can reason, but I cannot prove. My beliefs are based on the evidence of faith. Why do I have faith in what they reject? How can I accept what I do not completely understand? Why, when I, as I have lately, question whether almost everything I know is true and why, do I choose not to reject what I cannot prove?

It is the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. The peace given by the Holy Spirit. Faith, which cannot be worked up. You cannot be reasoned into heaven. Faith is a gift. And I am humbled and thankful for it like never before, realizing it is unearned and not to be taken for granted.

Salvation is miracle upon miracle. Not only must God the Creator die for the sinful creation, but the dead creature must have his eyes opened to even believe that he has been saved. Such grace is beyond belief, and to know that He has revealed the truth of His Word to you compels the giving of thanks.