What the Pictures Don’t Show

Do you like taking pictures? I love taking pictures. Few things capture a moment better than a picture. Videos can be so much better because they record context. Still, between the two, snapping a picture can be so much more satisfying.

As much as I love taking pictures, I rarely take them. I used to take pictures all the time. In that liminal space between digital photography and smartphones, before smartphones were a thing, my digital camera was seldom far from me. Long before digital cameras, I used different film cameras, and when I moved to France to study, I took my camera and over 25 rolls of film. I even took a panoramic camera.

While I was living in Europe, I bought more film. I took pictures of everything. It was like I had been reborn into a different world. And when I returned to the States six months later, I sent my panoramic film in to be processed, only for it to “disappear” mysteriously. I was heartbroken; every shot had been meticulously taken—I spent 20 minutes alone, on a single shot of Versailles, trying to capture it in just the right light without any people. I could have bought a postcard, but where’s the fun in that?

What Do We Do With Shame?

I was reading Ezekiel when this verse made me pause:

I want you to know that I am not doing this for your sake, declares the Sovereign LORD. Be ashamed and disgraced for your conduct, people of Israel!

Ezekiel 36:32 (NIV)

God told Israel they should be ashamed. This is remarkable considering what I’ve experienced around this word, “shame,” and the behaviors associated with it.

I have this dear sister who, if she has even the slightest negative thought or even a perceived negative one about someone, will go up and apologize profusely. She’s come up to me more times than I can remember to apologize for some “offense” I never noticed. If she says something “wrong,” God help her, she behaves as if she slapped you in the face and then laughed about it.

In contrast, I’ve had Christians be rude, condescending, and whatnot to me and others, while never saying a word. They merrily continue on without a care in the world. Between the two behaviors, I probably fall somewhere in between.

It makes me think that we need to learn how to manage our shame.

Who Are You Watching Out For?

The first time I read Ezekiel, I was immediately taken by his vision:

I looked, and I saw a windstorm coming out of the north—an immense cloud with flashing lightning and surrounded by brilliant light. The center of the fire looked like glowing metal, and in the fire was what looked like four living creatures. In appearance their form was human, but each of them had four faces and four wings. Their legs were straight; their feet were like those of a calf and gleamed like burnished bronze. Under their wings on their four sides they had human hands. All four of them had faces and wings, and the wings of one touched the wings of another. Each one went straight ahead; they did not turn as they moved.

Ezekiel 1:4-9 (NIV)

As someone who grew up voraciously consuming science fiction and fantasy, this description blew me away. So much so that I grabbed a pencil and began sketching what I thought Ezekiel saw. As I read on and on, sketching all the while, one thought rose above all others—aliens. Ezekiel is describing aliens.

The guy from the History Channel was right.

What’s Really Going on in Daniel 2:25?

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of accomplishment after we’ve finished something we’ve put extraordinary effort into. When we can step back from our work and say, “Look at that!” Even if no one else appreciates or even sees the work we do, we know that our hard work has paid off. In fact, I don’t know about you, but when someone compliments my work, I can find it difficult to just take the compliment.

I suppose that’s why I did a double-take today while reading Daniel.