Where We Go

It has been a long but joyful week. So much good has been done by so many with so little with such love that to be in the midst of it, watching from the corner of my lens has been a great gift. I love photography. It keeps the content of the world in very clear focus without the tedium and distraction of my own thoughts. I have long tried to explain the experience. When my eye hits the viewfinder there is nothing else but the image in the lens. I here nothing, feel nothing, become nothing but a recepticle for the images. It is pure in its ability to connect. Some have suggested that perhaps the camera is my arms length from the world, a defense that allows for the filtration of the rawest of raw. I disagree. In fact it distills the reality into a gel that is thick and covering and enduring in my mind and in my heart. When I close my eyes and recall the places I have photographed, images race forward from long forgotten faces, stories, tragedies, and joy. Every intentional release of the shutter seems to have embedded a piece of that life into mine. I thank God He gave me this ability and a joy for employing it.
I found myself in the street again today with my rear end planted firmly in the dirt and debrie. I love that place. I just watched the people going by, drank a coca cola and leaned against the shaded corner of a stucco building. I allowed my mind to drift to returning home and the treadmill that waits for me. I began questioning my entry into Seminary wonder what if anything it would do to connect Christ more deeply in my life. I wondered if all of my studies, my reading, my fighting to maintain the GPA is more about avoiding where I know I want to be but am always unsure as to a real calling. I want to write about the lives I photograph. I want to be a vehicle that delivers the grit and dirt of the world outside our illusion to the doorsteps of suburban Christianity. Will Seminary bring me one step closer to that dream?
I hugged a lot of people today that I admire, love, and know I will think about for some time. The little girl in the wheelchair came back today and I prayed from a distance. I was overjoyed to know that a fund has been established for her and even as I write these words my eyes are filled with tears for the love of the men and women who are on this team who's hearts would not allow them to dismiss that little life. I wonder if the love we experience and pour out, that love that is of Christ and nowhere else, can only come from us when we are confronted with the horrors and pain of the world. I wonder if Theology can answer questions like that or if there is a sufficient apologetic to bring it to light.
I did some last minute interviews today. I really disenjoy (my own special word) that method and pace but it is what it is. It was good however to hear the thoughts of those who make up this team and to be re-affirmed that they are good hearted souls who love something more than their own lives. Life should be lived like a mission.
Tomorrow, Diana and I will get lost in the markets of Antigua, an experience we have not shared in this city. No cameras, no video, no water bottle or backpack. I have some little stuffed animals to find for my Jelly Bean and a gift for a dear friend of mine who could not make this trip as he was called home before we left. I have dedicated every image for the love of this man, my friend, my classmate, and my brother in Christ, Brad. I know he would have brought something back for his wife and I think I know what he might have chosen. I pray that my work here has honored God and the memory of my brother.
Let me close this week with a passage that always brings me home: "Jesus said to his disciples, My peace I give, my peace I leave you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Do not be afraid." Amen.