Abide Culture Coffee Roasters: A Family's Year in Review [2022]
January 1, 2022 — December 31, 2022: The Dash [Part 2]
The beginnings of this year's hours began with our photographic trip of yesterday's dash: a stack of inked images—blank sheets became trimmed treasures—permanently printed and permeates recycled paper; pages of stained parchment reminds. Recalls. Reconstructs. External stimuli carves cache; cardboard box bulwarks. Reflection. Axiom.
2022 begins as 2021 ended: December's snow adopted by January. Winter weather watch. Snow drops. Sledding in our own backyard. Snowy sledding slopes beckoned. Yells reverberated and rode mountain air as colorful plastic discs sailed down. Icicles grow—frigid waters drip—as temperatures rise. Surgeon's scalpel slices skin; Great Physician heals. Walking ice-covered wintry rural roads at midnight. Woodstove burns continually; forced-fed fuel engulfed in flame. Seasoned split wood warms.
Cold snaps lead to spring's cycling schizophrenic climate. Winter's white washed away. Vernal. Slash piles of refuse and forest flotsam feeds fire's fiery furnace—an unquenchable appetite—ignited by propane. Ideas become projects turn to reality. Weather warms and turns cold again. April snow showers. Chicks brought home. Spring's continual rainfall. Fence erected; coop built. Arbored entrance welcomes as chicks grow; eggs laid.
Coffee cupping fellowship: family and friends. Bread broken; dinner shared. Gather. Teach. Learn. Projects began. Projects finished. Next project. Graduations. Anniversaries. Celebrations. Trip into Sandpoint—across Long Bridge—as rain pours down to watch classic cars cruise.
Solstice.
Countless bonfires burned; old wood becomes embers. Fire's life-like figure lengthens while gray smoke twists and spirals into darkening sky above. Freak summer storms; lightning's jagged edge rips open stratosphere. Long summer days become short summer nights. Summer's days off for rest and family. Tubbs Hill hiked. Lake life. Paddleboarding Lake Pend Oreille. Stillness stretches. Bald Eagles soar above. Hummingbirds dart to and fro. Waterslides in the day; rollercoasters at night illuminated by neon and light. Living art displayed.
Polaris punctuates construction paper sky with its bright shine as we investigate the heavens. Searching. Stargazing. Silent skies shifts to a ballet of shooting stars: Perseids. Massive full Moon. Milky Way allures. Answer the call in awe. The seven stars of the Greater Bear rises. Ptolemy's eagle—Aquila—gazes down. Altair, Deneb, and Vega shine in the Summer Triangle asterism. Evection. Canicular. Cold constellations chiseled by ancient light. Backs against comfortable chairs. Eyes relaxed in the depth of night. Dilate. Little Dipper pours into Big Dipper.
Needle drops upon newly acquired vinyl. Peruse paper-backed pages. Comics thumbed through. Bare-feet dancing in the kitchen as dinner cooks. Wildflowers grow. Honeysuckle grasps. Wisteria grips. Purple peapod petals adorned in fragrance; beckoning. Bees buzz and pollinate. Comb pulled. Queens lay. Brood grows. Honey capped. Honey flows. Honey harvested. New venture. Coffeeshop opened. Music spins: mixtape streams; adding audio tracks continually. Aural. Itinerant. Trip across Long Bridge, again, for Shakespeare—12th night—in the Park. Felled timbers sinks into wet earth; arena of twisted metal's mayhem. Conversations behind the counter. Farmers' Market. Lightning etches. Thunder peals. Rain slaps earth. Smoke saturated skies cleansed.
Change of seasons. Autumnal equinox. Epoch.
Summer becomes Fall. Daylight shortens. Sol stalls—hanging upon invisible thread—and hastens; meets horizon line. Warm days turn to cool nights. Luna rises. Leaves hemmed in a delicate lace of Autumn's ornate ombré; frondescence fringed in a fragile spectrum of burnt reds and yellows. October's orange hues radiate. Burnt rainbow blends. Fog sweeps and fills. Chores begin for winter's warmth: chainsaw's metal teeth bites and cuts; scent of tree and earth mingle as gas and oil imbrues. Another task. Rounded wood split. Split wood stacked. Stacked wood waits for woodstove's want.
“He made the moon to mark the seasons;
the sun knows its time for setting.”
— Psalm 104:19
The beginnings of this year's hours began with our photographic trip of yesterday's dash: a stack of inked images—blank sheets became trimmed treasures—permanently printed and permeates recycled paper; pages of stained parchment reminds. Recalls. Reconstructs. External stimuli carves cache; cardboard box bulwarks. Reflection. Axiom.
2022 begins as 2021 ended: December's snow adopted by January. Winter weather watch. Snow drops. Sledding in our own backyard. Snowy sledding slopes beckoned. Yells reverberated and rode mountain air as colorful plastic discs sailed down. Icicles grow—frigid waters drip—as temperatures rise. Surgeon's scalpel slices skin; Great Physician heals. Walking ice-covered wintry rural roads at midnight. Woodstove burns continually; forced-fed fuel engulfed in flame. Seasoned split wood warms.
Cold snaps lead to spring's cycling schizophrenic climate. Winter's white washed away. Vernal. Slash piles of refuse and forest flotsam feeds fire's fiery furnace—an unquenchable appetite—ignited by propane. Ideas become projects turn to reality. Weather warms and turns cold again. April snow showers. Chicks brought home. Spring's continual rainfall. Fence erected; coop built. Arbored entrance welcomes as chicks grow; eggs laid.
Coffee cupping fellowship: family and friends. Bread broken; dinner shared. Gather. Teach. Learn. Projects began. Projects finished. Next project. Graduations. Anniversaries. Celebrations. Trip into Sandpoint—across Long Bridge—as rain pours down to watch classic cars cruise.
Solstice.
Countless bonfires burned; old wood becomes embers. Fire's life-like figure lengthens while gray smoke twists and spirals into darkening sky above. Freak summer storms; lightning's jagged edge rips open stratosphere. Long summer days become short summer nights. Summer's days off for rest and family. Tubbs Hill hiked. Lake life. Paddleboarding Lake Pend Oreille. Stillness stretches. Bald Eagles soar above. Hummingbirds dart to and fro. Waterslides in the day; rollercoasters at night illuminated by neon and light. Living art displayed.
Polaris punctuates construction paper sky with its bright shine as we investigate the heavens. Searching. Stargazing. Silent skies shifts to a ballet of shooting stars: Perseids. Massive full Moon. Milky Way allures. Answer the call in awe. The seven stars of the Greater Bear rises. Ptolemy's eagle—Aquila—gazes down. Altair, Deneb, and Vega shine in the Summer Triangle asterism. Evection. Canicular. Cold constellations chiseled by ancient light. Backs against comfortable chairs. Eyes relaxed in the depth of night. Dilate. Little Dipper pours into Big Dipper.
Needle drops upon newly acquired vinyl. Peruse paper-backed pages. Comics thumbed through. Bare-feet dancing in the kitchen as dinner cooks. Wildflowers grow. Honeysuckle grasps. Wisteria grips. Purple peapod petals adorned in fragrance; beckoning. Bees buzz and pollinate. Comb pulled. Queens lay. Brood grows. Honey capped. Honey flows. Honey harvested. New venture. Coffeeshop opened. Music spins: mixtape streams; adding audio tracks continually. Aural. Itinerant. Trip across Long Bridge, again, for Shakespeare—12th night—in the Park. Felled timbers sinks into wet earth; arena of twisted metal's mayhem. Conversations behind the counter. Farmers' Market. Lightning etches. Thunder peals. Rain slaps earth. Smoke saturated skies cleansed.
Change of seasons. Autumnal equinox. Epoch.
Summer becomes Fall. Daylight shortens. Sol stalls—hanging upon invisible thread—and hastens; meets horizon line. Warm days turn to cool nights. Luna rises. Leaves hemmed in a delicate lace of Autumn's ornate ombré; frondescence fringed in a fragile spectrum of burnt reds and yellows. October's orange hues radiate. Burnt rainbow blends. Fog sweeps and fills. Chores begin for winter's warmth: chainsaw's metal teeth bites and cuts; scent of tree and earth mingle as gas and oil imbrues. Another task. Rounded wood split. Split wood stacked. Stacked wood waits for woodstove's want.
the sun knows its time for setting.”
— Psalm 104:19
Pendulum's Push. Pull. Tick. Tock. Traditions endure. Circle of friends expands. Family increases. Gatherings around refurbished kitchen table. Spiel. Idioms expressed and woven into our family's fiber. Quips and quotes. Laughter. Tears. Countdowns. Theological discussions resonate. Continual prayer. Mustard seed faith. Guidance. Direction. Protection. Calendar's unrelenting march continually advances. Day becomes night. Night becomes tomorrow. Tomorrow becomes today. First frost. Horripilation. Community comes together. Celebration of life. Remembrance. Harvest festivals. November rains. Paideia. Thanksgiving.
“Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him,
rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith,
just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.”
— Colossians 2:6-7
rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith,
just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.”
— Colossians 2:6-7
Lighting Ceremony. Advent. Back-to-back snow storms swell. Twin burn barrels belch. Christmas countdown continues. Snow drops piling deep. Drift. Winter. Temperatures plummet as negatives become highs; wind chill. Christmas Eve. Silent Night. O Holy Night. All is calm. All is bright. The coming of Messiah. Fulfillment of Old Testament promises. Fully God yet fully man. Atonement through Almighty Advocate. Salvation through Suffering Servant. Justification through Just Jehovah. Redemption through Righteous Redeemer. Christmas day. Savior's birth celebrated. Immanuel. God with us. Incarnate. Deity. Jesus Christ. Adonai.
Atonement.
“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son,
that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.
For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world,
but in order that the world might be saved through Him.
Whoever believes in Him is not condemned,
but whoever does not believe is condemned already,
because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.”
— John 3:16-18
Salvation.
“This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you,
the builders, which has become the cornerstone.
And there is salvation in no one else,
for there is no other name under heaven
given among men by which we must be saved.”
— Acts 4:11-12
Justification.
“Since, therefore, we have now been justified by His blood,
much more shall we be saved by Him from the wrath of God.”
— Romans 5:9
Redemption.
“In Him we have redemption through His blood,
the forgiveness of our trespasses,
according to the riches of His grace.”
— Ephesians 1:7
Atonement.
that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.
For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world,
but in order that the world might be saved through Him.
Whoever believes in Him is not condemned,
but whoever does not believe is condemned already,
because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.”
— John 3:16-18
Salvation.
the builders, which has become the cornerstone.
And there is salvation in no one else,
for there is no other name under heaven
given among men by which we must be saved.”
— Acts 4:11-12
Justification.
much more shall we be saved by Him from the wrath of God.”
— Romans 5:9
Redemption.
the forgiveness of our trespasses,
according to the riches of His grace.”
— Ephesians 1:7
Life lived in the B-roll. Learning to adapt. Planned days become something less than ideal in an instance. Candids. Context of living. Everyday adventures. Today's tangible tidbits acquired and recorded as mental images. Acquiring physical moments of substance. Shutter opens. Light leaks. Aperture. Focal point. Optic dilates. Depth of field. Edges blur while subject takes shape. Focus. An analog account: hand-written notes scrawled underneath frozen moments of time captured indefinitely; life lived in the now. Life lived in the dash. Life lived. History in the making. Scribe's pen to paper: journaling accompanies personal portraits. Vignettes. 365 days to collect memories obtained by everyday existence. Worth. Weight. Wonder. Moment to moment. Emotions experienced. Past's postcards spark nostalgia. Digital papercuts; study darkroom's camera roll. Develop. Linger. Observe. Sun swallowed silently as shadows of past lives in memory. Replayed moments captured. Words written. Pictures processed. Pensée.
"Wherever you are, be all there.
Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God."
— Jim Elliot
Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God."
— Jim Elliot
Another year lived. Another year gained. Another year gone. The consistent inconsistency to reflect upon. One remained an unfailing anchor: Jesus.
Selah.
May you know our Adonai in this upcoming year.
Selah.
May you know our Adonai in this upcoming year.
"From the beginning of the year to the end of the year,
from the first gathering of evening shadows until the day-star shines,
in all conditions and under all circumstances, it shall be well with the righteous."
— Charles Spurgeon
from the first gathering of evening shadows until the day-star shines,
in all conditions and under all circumstances, it shall be well with the righteous."
— Charles Spurgeon
Abide in Christ.