Similarities and Differences

I grew up on a farm. Rural Nebraska was the place I called home through the seventies and into the eighties. It was in the mid-eighties that I together with my family transplanted our roots into the rich, black-soiled Iowa rural landscape. Growing up, I loved Nebraska with its sandy-banked rivers and acres of pastureland that nourished many varied ecosystems.

It seems to mirror my own understanding of how families live so different from each other, even upon the same homeland. Iowa hosts some of these same variations, but it seems that somehow a trace of similarity runs through everyone in Iowa. Or, perhaps it is my own increasing age that causes me to see more similarities. Regardless, these Great Plains farming states are my spirit's home and the rural landscape calls me.



My own childhood home is now abandoned and dilapidated. I am drawn to capture the images of others like this place fighting the struggle against the forces assaulting the Great Plains farming culture.

I wonder, though...

...why these abandoned and decaying houses that dot the landscape call to me.

I am not looking for ghosts; and while some places have left me unsettled, most do not. Most places cause me to wonder about the people that lived, worked, played, fought, loved, and left these homes.

Am I looking, then, for similarities or differences from what I know life was like in my own, now-abandoned home?

Perhaps I'm asking you, because I don't know.

Faith

While some may view this structure as a symbol of faith that has deteriorated, I view it quite differently. To me, this is representative of resilience accompanied with insight. The balance between being strong and sensitive is a magnificent part of emerging into a place of faith.

There are so many spectacular contradictions in life. That a person can be resolute and receptive, dedicated and demanding, genuine and glorious all in one place is perfect. I think it takes faith to see these glorious contradictions in ourselves, to question those that do not serve us well, and to embrace those that make us enchanting.