Love the Unlovable

A Little Dab of Light

Normally, photographers love to have plenty of light when they're photographing. But professional photographer Joe Baraban, who also teaches on-line photography courses, recommends finding "a little dab" of sunlight in a dark scene. "When you find the light," he says, "you'll find the shot." 

To prove his point, he shares a photograph of an outdoor seating area. Most photographers would have thought the scene too dark and looked elsewhere for "the shot." But Joe saw a little dab of sunlight spilling through a small hole in the red umbrella/awning fabric and falling onto a white chair. That chair* became "the shot" because it contrasted beautifully with its dark surroundings.

As I reflected on that, I thought about how the apostle Paul urged those who of us who are children of God to talk and act in such a way that we will shine as lights in a society darkened by sin. (See Philippians 2:15). We may be quite ordinary, but even a little dab of light will make us stand out, in a beautiful way, like the chair Joe photographed or this rose that I photographed. 

*Note: To read Joe's article and see his photo visit: https://bpsop.com/category/blog/ 

Fully Formed

Buds intrigue me—for several reasons. 

They provide few clues as to their future beauty. In fact, some buds are “a little on the ugly side,” aren’t they?

I’m amazed at how a showy bloom can be encased in such a small bud. For example, everything that makes a rose a rose is encased in a tiny bud--just like those in this photo. One day, they'll open and be as large and as lovely as the pink rose that’s flourishing alongside them.

I’m amazed at how the maturation process remains shrouded in mystery. Knowing that imperceptible changes are occurring constantly inside the bud, I wait eagerly for it to open and reveal its beauty.

Buds remind me that their Creator is my Creator, too, and that He continues to mature me day by day. He knows my potential. In fact, He placed it within me. I don’t see much of it. Neither do other people see it. But...it IS there, just as yours is within you. 

In light of that, may these words I found in a book written by Vinita Hampton Wright greatly encourage us in our struggle to do our best work for God. 

[Even if] you are weary of yourself and loathe your attempts at giftedness, God sees you already fully formed and your work accomplished in all its beauty and glory (p. 158, The Art of Spiritual Writing: How to Craft Prose That Engages and Inspires Your Readers).

Well-Crafted Stories

When a friend asked me to read the first three chapters (and the synopsis) of a fiction book she was writing, I gladly agreed. One morning I curled up with the 40+ pages and enjoyed a “good read.” Because I liked the two main characters she’d created and cheered for them as they grappled with painful emotions of the present (and the past), I was sorry when I reached the end of chapter three. I wanted MORE details about about how they’d find the true bliss I knew (from reading the synopsis) the author had planned for them. 

As I read my friend’s book, I recalled how much I’d enjoyed my few (and feeble) attempts at writing fiction. It’s really fun to bring characters to life and to choose what happens to them. I do a similar kind of thing when I create images with my camera. I get to choose what goes into the frame—and what doesn't.

God does that same kind of thing—only in a far, far greater way. As Max Lucado points out in his excellent book, When God’s Story Becomes Your Story, each life is “a crafted narrative written by a good God who is working toward your supreme good.”

God’s already written the book of my life—and yours, Dear Reader! We’ll just have to wait to “read” the remaining chapters!