I really enjoy good photographs. I received my first camera at age 13, a little FujiFilm point-and-shoot. In college, I splurged and bought a Canon Rebel (yes, this was still before the digital age surpassed film in quality). For a student, I spent a ridiculous amount of money developing photographs of every face and place I knew and went.

Today, those photographs are packed in boxes stacked neatly in storage -- the loft of the shop, a space formerly intentioned to become my craft area. They haven't seen the light of day in years, but I know, someday, I'll get them out and be thrilled to have them; all those snapshots in time.

Recently, my husband, Jack (8 months) and I had our family pictures taken. I saw the proofs today and am so excited about the pictures. I'm not taking many myself these days (except of baby Jack, of course), but my appreciation for good photography continues. If anyone in my area is looking for a great family photographer with either on-location or studio availability, check out www.atheacore.com. She really does a wonderful job. You'll be glad to have those portraits someday!

Today, I experienced an object lesson. Jesus talked about the shepherd who loses a lamb. He leaves the flock and goes in search of the lost one.

My favorite cat disappeared as of Monday night (four days ago). We have five cats, and if anyone else had told this story (I pictured someone sharing this as a prayer request at church), I would have felt sad, sure, but for just a moment. When orange-tabby "Albert" didn't appear yesterday at suppertime, my heart filled with dread. I went to bed praying he would come home, but fearing a walk up the highway would find his little body in the ditch. Tears seeped out, and I woke up this morning feeling sad and heavy. When I went out around 8:30 to do the chores, again, no Albert anywhere to be seen.

Since becoming a mom, my emotions have become much more volatile. I seem to feel everything more intensely. The loss of this little kitty really weighed on me, and I felt like the shepherd Jesus described. Here we have four, fun and healthy kitties at home, but I'm gripped by the knowledge of the one that's lost, wondering what happened to him, fearing the worst.

God be thanked, this story has a happy ending. Albert sauntered very nonchalantly around the corner while I was filling the critters' water pail at the barn. No explanations, no apologies, but he was a very lovey kitty all day today. If only our animals could talk to us, oh, the stories they would tell, I'm sure.

I never thought I would be such a basket case over a missing cat. Again, I chalk it up to the recent hormone changes brought on by motherhood. It sure is good to have Albert home again, safe and sound.

"Hope conquers fear."

I pay lip-service to this notion but lately in particular, I have recognized how I fall short in living like I believe it. It's like the fact that it's always easier to coast along than it is to toil uphill. Fear is like entropy -- you have to actively fight it for it not to gain the upper hand. Hope doesn't just happen, rather, to be hopeful, one must consciously and constantly take captive one's deleterious thoughts and actively seek to change one's own mindset and perspective toward hope.

It is 9:11pm on a chilly, Wednesday evening and I'm grateful for the effective, if overly loud, heater here in my room at the Olympic Inn in Klamath Falls, Oregon. I supposedly "created" this blog several weeks ago, and had all but forgotten about it when I stumbled upon something that jogged my memory enough to double back and see if I did indeed have a "blog". It seems I do, so here I go.

I am somewhat perplexed with myself for venturing into this blog world. I already spend enough of my day staring at this little laptop screen, and blogs seem a dime a dozen nowadays. It makes me wonder, is anyone really saying anything original? Most of us have heard the line that what's so great about the internet is that anyone can publish on it, and what's so terrible about the internet is ... the same thing. I do seem to at some point remember aspiring to be a writer, but I'm not in need of a digital platform from which to plug my own thoughts on life.

Well, what a brilliant beginning this is! Perhaps my development from this point into an accomplished blogger (if that occurs) will be worthy of study, but for now, I am reminded of King Solomon's words in the first chapter of Ecclesiastes:

"What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun."