MISSING
week 5 | april 19 - april 26
MISSING
There’s no way around it — we were not created to live in isolation from one another. And yet, here we are. We are living an incomplete version of ourselves and feel it deeply. The prompt “missing” garnered a diverse and textured response from those reflecting on what or whom they miss, or perhaps a missed opportunity, or even that grief that someone can “go missing.” Within the amazing works below you will see and hear through the eyes of your fellow Cross family members. There is vulnerability here, and it is profound. There is also some levity here, and it is a balm. Below, you will consider a birthday party for elderly parents, an original music composition exploring the incompleteness left by tragic loss, the dream of dolphins in Venice canals, and the desire to sing with more than one voice. This, and so much more, are displayed below to bless, challenge, and comfort you.
Sanctuary
Claire Carlson
pen & ink
Embrace
Melody Villars
ceramic sculpture
In my 29 years of being alone, I have been taught and led by my Lord, Jesus; and disciplined and nurtured by my Father God. It has been a blessing to be able to focus on my relationship with Jesus, the only perfect love. But, being a romantic at heart, I am sometimes overcome by the longing to be cherished, to be someone’s beloved, here on earth. So I miss the joy of belonging that my sculpture portrays.
Missing You
Ryan Voeller
graphic design
Pilgrims
Steve Hunt
We are all missing something
Homeless souls searching for port
Missing children; missing parents
Missing lovers; missing friends
Missing the dead
Miss him; miss her
Dorothy missing Kansas
Odysseus missing Pen
Pilgrims we are on this earth
Exiles, strangers, nomads
Shadow riders at border control
In it, not of it
Desiring hope; it’s often decayed
Pointed to a better country
Of permanence and peace
A distant shore evasive no more
Missing - Dolphins from Venice Canals
Molly Ruch
The lightning speed of this new urban legend caught my attention, especially after reading an article that equated the desire for this to be true with our unrecognized desire for paradise. We all share a missing for what is good, right, and beautiful. What we all miss is our true home.
Dolphin
Lottie Ruch
water color
No Trace
Lexi Tavani
original composition - string quartet & percussion
"Not much more than a month ago, I was on the other shore of the Pacific, looking westward. This evening, I looked eastward over the Pacific. In those fast-moving days, which have intervened, the whole width of the world has passed behind us, except this broad ocean. I shall be glad when we have the hazards of its navigation behind us." — Amelia Earhart, just days before she disappeared
The initial concept for No Trace was born out of a collaborator’s interest in missing aircraft, like the infamous Amelia Earhart incident and the recent tragedy of the missing Malaysian aircraft. In a sense, this piece really is meant to mirror the extreme, internal emotional roller coaster ride that one might experience when hearing the news that a loved one is part of such a tragedy. It was a challenge to capture all of the emotions that might go through one’s mind when they hear the devastating news about a friend or loved one. It is not directly linked to the oft-referenced five phases of grieving described in the Kübler-Ross model – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance – but one can certainly feel the emotional ups and downs. Having lost multiple immediate family members, I know from personal experience that loss produces so much more than five easily categorized stages. This piece is meant to focus on the searching and questions without answers that come with such a process.
In comparison to most of my other music, this work should create a feeling of incompleteness. Usually I am hyper concerned with making sure that all transitions are smooth and well executed – that there is a sense of completeness in all sections of a piece, and when the listener arrives at the conclusion, the piece feels as though it has arrived naturally. In writing this piece, I denied this usual impulse toward completeness. In a way, there is a void – a missing piece. Throughout No Trace, one is meant to sense the emptiness and confusion that accompanies the emotions of those affected by such an event.
Pride in Going out
Rachel Frosch
I miss the every day hustle to go off into the world. 'Bye mom, I love you' as they rush out to friends, learning, playgrounds. The pride in their faces when they come home, the dancing feet of little brother and sister when they see them coming 'the boys are home!,' the first hug as they unload backpacks, shoes, the stories of their day.
Passing Along Their Love
Rachel Frosch
I miss the tender love and touch of my grandma and my husband's grandfather. The love they have for my kids makes me ache for simple, but beautifully sacred moments like these.
Missing
John Hardacker & friends
This is a collaborative project. Thank you to all that provided pictures and music
The Exile
Barb LaTondresse - 1977
Lonely hours and night.
The minutes fade slowly, silently,
As he waits the appointed time.
And yet, my heart is glad.
One cannot measure happiness
by time spent without.
Within are the hidden treasures
Of secret places
Known only thru pain.
It will not be forever.
When that night
Fades into twilight.
The reds and yellows
Will paint
Our dawn
Across the golden sky.
The Dayspring on High
Will Himself
Ordain our Morning Joy.
Our together
Will be forever
In His Time.
The exile refers to a time in our (Andre & Barb’s) history when we had broken up; things looked dark for us. Yet God had given the promise through Jeremiah 29:11-14 that he (Andre) would return someday. This poem was written to express my feelings of loneliness and loss in missing our relationship and yet having the firm belief he would return someday. Likewise today in or virus-mandated world, although its a different situation. we have similar feelings of loss and longing for life as it was before the virus hit, and promises from God to cling to for 'a future and a hope’ (Jer 29:11) even after this dark time is past,
Spring 2020
Justin VanNingen
photography
Communion— in all the ways
Jen Asp
photography
Community
Marty Ochs
mural
The Community Panel from a section of the Celtic Junction mural portraying a ceili, an Irish social dance.
Searching
Annie Knier
photography
Missing You
Christian, Aiden, and Lottie Ruch
Skiing
Sam Hamer
At dusk I skied behind our youngest son
Along a double track with grooves to guide,
In air so still so clear so thin I thought
At last we must begin to float or fly.
With him ahead afraid if left behind
I’d be glad to follow fast, but these legs
Can’t keep with his, born to this winter play--
I’ve been before and know how we are led.
He pauses, hands outstretched atop his poles,
To face a brilliant moon we both can see
Now, just beyond the crowded, tangled trees.
Too far passed to hear the prayer or promise,
I’m sad I’ll miss what then he might have said,
Wond’ring, of blessing, bane or Great Amen.
One Voice
Rachel Frosch, Jess Anderson, Andene O’Neil
original song by Wailin’ Jennys
This was recorded standing 6 feet apart from one another.
We long for the time when it’s not necessary to keep distance from one another,
and when we get to hear the sound of “all of us” again.
This is the sound of one voice
One spirit, one voice
The sound of one who makes a choice
This is the sound of one voice
This is the sound of one voice
This is the sound of voices two
The sound of me singing with you
Helping each other to make it through
This is the sound of voices two
This is the sound of voices two
This is the sound of voices three
Singing together in harmony
Surrendering to the mystery
This is the sound of voices three
This is the sound of voices three
This is the sound of all of us
Singing with love and the will to trust
Leave the rest behind it will turn to dust
This is the sound of all of us
This is the sound of all of us
This is the sound of one voice
One people, one voice
A song for every one of us
This is the sound of one voice
This is the sound of one voice
Missing the Women of Cross
Jen Herther
watercolor
Missing Taner
Lorri Eiswald
photography
Taner is Lorri’s oldest son
Mother & Father
Lois Yang
birthday party - photography
My dear mom and dad who went home to Jesus in the past year. This picture was taken the end of March just a few weeks before my mother passed. My father passed a few months later.
Four Angels
Michelle Check
still life photography
We have a photo in our home that we took when our daughter was a newborn, which to my husband and me honors the lives - ever so short - of four children we will not hold in our arms this side of heaven. It reminds us how each sweet life was unique, meaningful, and important. How we felt such hope and wonder and immense love upon learning of each of these sweet babies' existence. How we grieved, mourned, and grew upon their loss. How they are terribly missed. And it also reminds us how Jesus was with us through every tear, every sleepless night, each broken dream, all the uncertainty and despair. And that He is with each of us now, as we all navigate a different kind of uncertainty. May we all experience peace and comfort from His presence.
Childhood
Judah & Evangeline Moon
Lost
Gabriel Hodges
cello