week one | march 22-march 29

SPRING

For many of us, these uncertain times made us desperate for spring. We want to reach out, grab a hold and pull it toward us. The art submitted here conveys the longing, the beauty, the profundity, and the promise of spring. Within one week our church responded with spring flowers (as one should), and also with homemade medical masks, a swift moving river, poetry, maple syrup, folk music, personally designed shoes, and much more.

Please feel free to comment at the end of this post, or consider emailing/calling anyone with whom you’d like to connect. Click here to be taken to the church portal to look up contact information.

99D00DBE-DE51-4AE8-BE4F-1C84D0BC06FD - Peter Fredrickson.jpeg — Flowers

Pete Frederickson
*watercolor*

Maple Syrup

Liz Berg

For me, this year, spring signifies the end of a difficult first trimester of pregnancy. Spring means celebration and excitement for this new little life- this unexpected blessing. Spring means that after weeks of sickness, dehydration, self-doubt and anxiety, I am finally ready to accept this pregnancy and this 4th child as “good news.”

Prairie Spring Quarantine

Sean O’Neil

melody from J. Ungar’s "Prairie Spring"

I am waiting here for this prairie spring
All the rain and the fear will wash away
As I walk through the door hear the children play
Once again take your hand, as we pray

We will sing Hallelujah to our king
Drink the cup, feel your grace, in that holy place

But until that day I will call your name
Sitting here in this chair, waiting in my home
Will you wait with me in this quarantine
Till we fly once again like birds of spring

Designer Shoes

Lottie Ruch
*paint & canvas*

IMG_7898 - Andrea Huston.jpg — The Spring Cross

Adeline Huston
*paint*

28B4D48B-20A4-4A9C-89E9-8885D9DA55B0+-+Mary+Olson.jpg — Tree of Life

Mary Olson
*hand thrown and painted*

Birches Revisited

Adam Murray

I found myself among a clump of Birches
Walking through the wood on a late winter’s morn
There they stood – apparitions among
The dead scrub and the Boxwood trunks, the
Ominous silhouettes standing watch in the snow
- sentinels of the principalities of winter
But the Birches, leafless and surrounded, with
Pink cheeks peeking through peeling paper -
Whispered, like the uncorruptible bones – saints
Heralding jade and olive and caterpillars
I found myself among the blessed of the forest
Spring was written in their three-pronged shadows
Yes - my quiet footprints pressed in winter’s sackcloth
Will fade – as buds push through pale Birch branches
My feet will once again find the earth soft and pregnant
Already – but not yet

Spring Breaks on the Zumbro River

Margie Haack

3A06D070-0E1B-4F48-9BC2-45CED313B8E9 - Melody Villars.jpeg — A Tulip’s Story

Melody Villars
*poem & colored pencil illustration*

CTWOJ 31 - Terry Dugan.jpg — An Invitation to Color

Terry Dugan
*from one of his published coloring books*

Dew of Heaven - Jamie Kaihoi.jpg — Dew of Heaven

Jamie Kaihoi
*photography*

E249A3A2-8AF2-447A-B583-6BCB11457AC6 - Jennifer Jacobs.jpeg — Birthday Card for Mom

Lily Jacobs
*watercolor*

The Maker

Casey Ochs, John Ochs, David Ochs

Original song by Daniel Lanois & covered by a number of different groups
from EmmyLou Harris, Willie Nelson, Dave Matthews Band, and the Grateful Dead.

Oh, oh deep water
Black and cold like the night
I stand with arms wide open
I've run a twisted line
I'm a stranger in the eyes of the maker

I could not see for the fog in my eyes
I could not feel for the fear in my life

From across the great divide, in the distance I saw a light
John baptist walking to me with the maker
So my body is bent and broken by long and dangerous sleep
I can't work the fields of Abraham and turn my head away
I'm not a stranger in the hands of the maker

Brother John, have you seen the homeless daughters
Standing there with broken wings?
I have seen the flaming swords
There over east of Eden
Burning in the eyes of the maker

Burning in the eyes of the maker
Burning in the eyes of the maker
Oh, river rise from your sleep

Sue Awes

Lo, The Winter is Past
*hand-painted plate*

507F4860-4959-4CDA-AA26-8F03222F555B - Emily Holley.jpeg — Trinity

Emily Holley
*wood & wheat*

This week I created this for our wall to remind myself and our household of the Trinity in this time of death, isolation and catastrophe. The Trinity provides hope: it makes life itself indestructible because life can never slip into the nothingness of death but will always be resurrected to return to him in glory. In the same way, spring reminds us that the finite death of winter is not the end. Spring is the embodiment of the resurrection that we continually experience.

Spring Beauty - Jamie Kaihoi.jpg — Spring Beauty

Charis Kaihoi

Photography Series

Kim Crockett

Ice Out

Excelsior March 2020

The Dock March 2020

Spring and Winter Say Goodbye

360EB9E6-88A2-4953-9C27-ECB89FFC33EB+-+Andrew+Wiskus.jpg — Spring

Liam Wiskus
*watercolor*

4673BCA0-3149-4E18-BEB4-86EF286032AE+-+Joel+Bascom+%281%29.jpg — April 15, 1947

Joel Bascom
for Jack Bascom

8da40d535f120e149af6f777c626dd1d - Lorri.jpg — Pearl Bouquet

Lorri Eiswald
*photography*

IMG_5489 - Joel Bascom.jpg — Valley Falls

Wesley Bascom
*legos*

Spring

Todd Johnson

In the cold flat air that rock and darkness grow, Winter reigned. The season stretched from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. Fragrant oils saturated the black; linens lay still where Winter had prevailed. Hope lay defeated in silence as permanent as the end of time.

Then the season passed. Unheralded by trumpets or a roll of drums, unlit by lightning or even torchlight. There was no gradual thaw or slow budding of new life. Winter was crushed as fine as a puff of flour from a baker’s hands, or the tiny mist from a whistler’s lips. Replaced by a season warmer and sweeter than imagination; a Spring unfathomable before Winter’s death.

All in the moment a carpenter opened his eyes.