Playdates with God: Beauty is a Person

This morning, the world is laced with white, petite ice crystals cling to fingers of grass—winking in the early light. I’m out in the back yard in my robe, knee boots pulled on hastily, trying to capture beauty. Everything I touch melts and I tiptoe cautiously along the rim of this plot of land we call home. I am a clumsy giant in this fragile frozen world and diamonds crush beneath me.  The birds are quiet and my hem is soaked clean through from the bending and kneeling, and I think, Just one more shot.
The kids are still asleep upstairs and the neighbor’s goats crash through the meadow and my bare legs are turning blue beneath this robe. 
But I am standing in a wonderland and I wonder. How does the world not stop its turning in the wake of such beauty? 
The things that disappear too quickly are begging to be framed. 
My heart has been heavy for the people of the Philippines, for friends who have loved ones there, for people I have loved over the sea. And I stand alone on this gossamer, small but seen, and I sing the Shema. I lift it all up: this beauty, that grief, all the loss a broken world must endure. 
Just one more shot, I think. 
And Beauty is a person; that sweet Companion who soothes the ache.
Over at The High Calling, we’re continuing our discussion of Todd Henry’s book Die Empty: Unleash Your Best Work Every Day. Join us? Today, we’re pleased to host a live discussion with Todd, this afternoon, November 11 at 3p.m. ET. Just click here to join us.

How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him. Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us:

The Playdates button:


  1. Mia says

    Dear Laura
    Today you have truly captured beauty through your photos. And I agree that we don’t truly know what beauty is! We will only discover that one day when we are all home. Yikes, it would be so nice to meet you all there with Jesus face to face!
    Blessings XX

  2. says

    Oh, I can just imagine you outside in your boots and robe capturing the beauty. (I would do the same thing btw). Your photos are so lovely and your heart even more so. Thinking about you and praying you have a wonderful start to your week.

  3. bluecottonmemory says

    We’d have fun – with our cameras. There’s something about it that brings me into conversation with the Father – and in the photographing He reveals something just for me:) And we share – because good things need to be shared:) We’re getting snow flurries tomorrow – I am so excited. It’s like waiting for your dad to come home and he’s bringing a surprise!!!!

  4. says

    Amazing pictures, Laura. You’ve captured that quiet and luminous quality of fall. And yes, I agree, that “beauty is a person” who shines around us every day–if only we would just open our spiritual eyes!

  5. says

    The beauty is so fragile, isn’t it? Thank you for connecting the beauty of your words and the images you captured (while soaking the hem of your robe) with prayer for help in the wake of the destruction in the Philippines. I’m waiting for news about David, the Compassion child I sponsor there. And, you know me, a piece of my heart will always belong to the Philippines. I received one of life’s loveliest gifts from that land.

  6. Summer says

    Thank you Laura:
    My heart has been heavy for the people of the Philippines, for friends who have loved ones there, for people I have loved over the sea. And I stand alone on this gossamer, small but seen, and I sing the Shema. I lift it all up: this beauty, that grief, all the loss a broken world must endure.

    As true as the glory and the struggle of a Psalmist. There are so few words.

  7. Elizabeth says

    Laura this is a favorite. I want it to find its way into your book. It is just tender and beautiful just like the woman who wrote it 🙂

  8. says

    Your post reminded me about the day I got out of the hospital last year. The sky looked bluer than I had ever seen it…. sunshine… fresh air…. the gifts of His creation. I cried as we drove home in the beauty. I didn’t know what a gift sunlight was until I had to miss it for so many days… And now, I am reminded that beauty is a fragile gift to be cherished. May I never forget that as I look out of my window and see a gorgeous day, there is someone hurting. — Praying with you for those in the Philippines today.

  9. kingfisher says

    I’m so glad you have trained yourself to see God in beauty everywhere — yes, even if it means your legs turning blue as you stand in the field appreciating it, and HIM. (Sure glad it’s not that cold where I live, but yes, the glittering frost-diamonds are incredible!)

  10. says

    Yes, beauty, grief, and loss all intertwined. Thank you for acknowledging the ache but also the beauty. So thankful His companionship soothed the ache a bit today. Frost is forecast tomorrow night here, our first freeze perhaps. I will remember you as I look out on the glittering grass when it comes.

  11. lindalouise says

    You have a gift for seeing the beauty Laura, and then you give it to us. I love seeing through your eyes. It reminds me, when everything begins to look a bit tarnished, that “Beauty is a person.”

  12. says

    Laura, your words and images are so very beautiful in this post. Thanks for braving the chill {which I don’t like and we had snow here today too} and capturing what is fleeting but so meaningful — from snow flakes to human lives. Sublime and thought provoking…

  13. DeanneMoore says

    Yes, “the things that are disappearing quickly are begging to be framed.” I thought of this yesterday as the last of the fall leaves hung precariously to the tree and how I wanted to capture their beauty…and the beauty of the toddlers running under my feet, changing so quickly without hardly a notice. I frame life in stories…and some of them are as beautiful as the frost, some aren’t. Singing the Shema with you today.

  14. says

    I had to look up “gossamer” and I was thrilled to delve into your heart and meaning. The light featherweight of a life that is halfway between earth and heaven is a one that senses this world but is closer to home than ever before

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