Thursday, October 1, 2009


After a lengthy hiatus, I am resurrecting my blog for purely selfish reasons...its therapeutic. Actually, if it can offer that same effect for others, than I'm happy AND unselfish;).

As of late, I have noticed a growing appreciation for pure simplicity. I am, as I type, listening to the music of Jason Mraz and Ingrid Michaelson. They have that sort of pure simplicity to their music. Guitar. Their voices. That's about it. There's something calming about, everything's going to be ok. There's a recurring theme in the score on my favorite TV show, "LOST," of just a simple piano tune. No harmony. Just a few notes. But it's incredibly powerful. It, also, just has a gentle reassurance of everything's going to be ok. I don't know why, it just does. Of course, everything isn't always ok, or certainly doesn't feel like it, and that's why I need to remember things more simply, I think.

I used to think that complicated, complex and whatever-else issues and situations were the stuff of life. Like many college students, I used to stay up till all hours trying to solve the mysteries of the world (not that there's anything wrong with that), and now, I'm just here. I'm now.

In the last year and a half I've experienced the death of my 3 1/2 year old princess of a little sister and a wonderful friend. It puts a new spin on things. Perspective changes. Things that seemed important suddenly aren't anymore. As cliche as that might sound, its true. And you don't realize just how true until you're forced to. I guess losing people you love also inevitably makes you look at life the way they did.

Tarah loved to dance. She loved reading books to me, and she loved that I sat next to her at the kitchen table for dinner. She loved to sing. She loved her family. Every night after Dad would read to the kids, while us older kids were off at college, she would *never* forget to remind Dad to pray for us. All of us. Those were the things that were important to her. Singing, dancing, and loving us. Granted, she was only 3 1/2 when she went to heaven, but there's definitley something there. Something beautifully simple. My friend Liz, who was killed just last week, was known for her mantra of 'live simply.'

God put these people in our lives for a reason. They've come and gone so quickly, but left so much. I can't even begin to start to tell what they left for me, but the beauty of simplicity is one of them. The simplicity of loving what's right in front of you. Don't worry about tomorrow. God said so. Don't be irresponsible, of course, and put everything else off. But you get the idea.

Coming home from school for a fall break today, I decided to step outside onto our driveway just after the rain ended and looked out across the fields surrounding our house. It took my breath away. I'm not sure why at that moment it did, but it just did. The beautiful simplicity of the landscape was indescribable. God's handiwork is everywhere, which sometimes causes me to look right past it. But when I take the time to look, I can't pull myself away. And his handiwork isn't just in nature, but in all of you guys, too. I'm so thankful for the life I've been blessed with, including the love that God put in it; my capability to give it to others, and everything I get from others. And this got long-winded a long time ago, so I think I might go enjoy that rain some more.


Jessica said...

Love you, Laura. This is wonderful and all true.

Erin said...

This is lovely! It came at just the right time, too; I've got so many irons in the fire that sometimes I think it's going to be smothered. Thank you.