anticipation

Sometimes summertime in Jerusalem means lots of guests, and a welcome excuse to explore and to see this Land through newcomers’ eyes again

Back when it was my first time in Israel, I had no camera. I had to rely on words to paint pictures of the people, the places, and the happenings I so longed to remember and share with folks back home. Sometimes I found myself making sketches in my head while I was out and about, asking myself, “How can I make them see this?”

Then I got a camera, and a whole new world opened up. I found that I wrote less, as I relied more and more on photography to store up memories and experiences. I found that taking photos can be an act of worship, as I focus more intensely on what God has made. I also discovered that photography doesn’t have to be skilled to bring a great deal of joy to others.

I had a very happy few years with my trusty, battered, pocket-sized camera. Then this happened, just before this summer’s touring was set to begin:

Suddenly, taking pictures meant clamping the battery door shut with my trigger-hand, and still managing to hit the shutter. I got serious about looking for a new camera, but as I waded deep into the confusing world of comparison shopping, meanwhile wrestling with my crippled camera, photography wasn’t a favorite anymore.

That’s when I realized I was living a parable for the single life.

In both cases, life works — but I’m not satisfied with how well it’s working. I want more — but I wish somebody would just step in and tell me exactly what (or who) I need, so I don’t have to make bewildering choices. I want something new — but I’m worried that I’m just being ungrateful.

As usual, I felt God nudging me towards a paradoxical perspective.

I kept using my old camera, and discovered that I could still get (and share) a lot of joy, even when it wasn’t functioning perfectly. I kept asking God for direction about a new camera, and found (within my budget) an even better model than I had envisioned for myself.

I’m not sure how He melds greater reliance on His choice for me and more active involvement in discovering it myself. Deeper contentment with what I have and a more-than-I-can-ask-for future. But He does.