Surprise Endings

“Your daughter is dead.”

That's the news the group received as they traveled along the road to make it to the girl in time.

It was too late

The father had left his daughter’s sick bed to go and find a man he had heard was healing the sick. It was their only hope.

But now? It was too late, they were too late, Jesus was too late.

Then Jesus says it, to the father suddenly stricken with grief; “don’t be afraid.”

In the middle of his world suddenly crashing down around him, in the pain of hearing his only daughter had just died, the man is told to not be afraid. To top that off, Jesus says something even more startling;

Just believe, and she will be healed.

If that had been me, I would’ve been like; “didn’t you just hear the news? She’s d.e.a.d. it’s too late to heal her!”

But I wonder if God doesn’t tell us the same things.

In the middle of our deepest pains, our darkest days, facing the most impossible looking circumstances, He whispers to our hearts,

Don’t be afraid.

Don’t worry.

Just trust me and you will see miracles happen.

You will see the impossible become possible.

You will see the dead rise.

I wonder if most of us would be like the crowd gathered to mourn at the house. When Jesus arrived there, they were making so much noise – wailing even. And Jesus tells them “Stop wailing. She is not dead but asleep.”

They laughed at him. They mocked him.

They knew she was dead, they had seen it with their own eyes. This guy didn’t know what he was talking about, he was crazy, delusional.

They trusted in what they could see in their limited view of the whole story, instead of having faith in the one who knows the ending. 

In our own lives, too, we do this. I know I do. I focus on the present, impossible looking circumstances, then I look at my own already waning strength, and I despair, thinking

How am I ever going to survive this?

But that wasn’t the end of the story. Jesus went to where the little girl lay, took her by the hand and told her to wake up.

“Her spirit returned, and at once she stood up.” Luke 8:55

Life was breathed into the dead, in a surprise ending that no one could’ve foreseen.

The dead was raised and the impossible became possible because the God and Creator of the universe is writing this story and. He. Is. Working. All. Things. For. Good!

And He is writing the story of our lives as well. Things might look hard from where we’re standing – even impossible at times – but God knows what’s coming. He knows the ending. And He asks us to trust Him. To not put our faith on what we can only see, but to trust that some way, somehow, God will work ALL things – including This thing, whatever it may be – for our good. 

Just trust Him.

Imaginary Companies

 In my design class for my second semester of college I am currently learning about typography in designs. As a project, I had to come up with a typographic design for five imaginary companies. With Little Sister around to bounce silly ideas around with, it didn't take long. DigiU is completely her idea, she dreams of an animation system that allows you to take live action video and then animate the people in there as if they were computer generated. Smart Wheels is probably my dream company, a lifestyle service that would allow you to have the company look after your car while they give you some other type of transportation (moped, motorcycle, four wheeler, etc.) in return. That way you can try out car-free living without selling your car. They would even have a taxi service that you would give them permission to use your car for, so the monthly fee to be apart of the program would be extremely cheap. Doesn't that sound like the coolest thing ever!? These were a lot of fun designing. Personally, I like Helium Inc.'s slogan the best!

 

From My Notebook: Susan's Sick Day

Susan always liked it when she got sick. Sure it meant pain, fevers and missing out on some of life, but it also meant she could spend all day in her soft bed, surrounded by fluffy blankets and her favorite things to keep her entertained. The bowl of cereal sat in her lap, steadied by her hands, but barely touched. It was going soggy. Jacob had been over this morning and had gotten it for her. He always was there when she needed help. She smiled, happy to have such a great friend. Suddenly her body was wracked with a violent coughing spell. As it subsided she leaned wearily back into her sea of feather pillows. Before her were her snapshots. She loved taking pictures with her replica vintage Kodak camera. It was her hobby, to capture all the beautiful details of her life. She kept them in shoe boxes, organized by year in her closet. She had a handful spread out on her bed now, from the last month. A lot of them had Jacob making funny faces at her. She always grinned when she saw them. Her journal was open too. It was her other occupation that used up her free time. Writing about life; the joys and pains and events and her ponderings. Jacob always teased her that someday he’d steal her journals and publish them and she’d become famous for her wise observations of life. She didn’t think they were all that wise. It was only her trying to make a little bit of sense in this world. All around her the room was neutral tones. Cream walls, earth grey blankets, even her sweater was a grey. The colored Polaroid photos stood out with pops of color against it all. Susan sighed contentedly. This was her life, it was simple, it had very few earthly possessions besides her photos and journals and camera, but it was beautiful and it was all she needed. Well, that, and her best friend.

Image Inspiration

What I Want This Christmas...

This Christmas Eve as we gather together, upholding years of family tradition, I find, amid the searching for the perfect gifts at the cheapest prices, my heart is searching for something greater.

And sure, we all say we’re celebrating Jesus’ birthday at this time of year. We read the Christmas story again even though we’ve said the words so many times I wonder if we ever stop to actually hear them. 

And yeah, we can try and find a new way to tell it, try to force life into a two thousand year old story that people listen to with glazed eyes… but I don’t think that’s what Christmas is about. 

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think we should stop reading the story just because we’ve heard it a million times already, that story is OUR story, of God coming down to save us, so that we can be with Him.

It’s just that I think we’re missing something fundamental about this season. 

And I don’t think this holiday time is about reminding ourselves that He’s coming back again, this time not as a baby but as a victorious king. 

 

Don’t think that I’m saying we’re wrong on dwelling on this; it is the Christian’s hope, something to be remembered every day, not just two or three days. 

It’s just that I think if we make the focus of Christmas time about a long ago dusty past, or a distant vague future… we end up on missing out on the most important thing about Christmas. 

We’re missing out – I’m missing out – on… Immanuel. 

God with us. 

Right now. 

His presence in our hearts. In all the shopping for presents I find my heart wilting to simply be present. And when over used words – or some brand new words that try to retell the story for my entertainment – fall on ears that are hard of truly hearing, what I really long for is to hear the story that’s being told right now. 

The one that’s completely new come every Christmas. 

 

The story of God with us… God with me. And me with God. 

Through the breathtaking Christmases, the numbing Christmases and the heartbreaking Christmases.

In the crazy busy malls, Immanuel. 

In the nostalgic Christmas songs – both the ones about angels in the sky as well as the ones about kissing under the mistletoe – God with me. 

In the story that you could quote in your sleep and the Christmas services; God with us, and us with God.

 

So let’s not forget the thing we all really need this Christmas… Immanuel, God in this present moment… with us. 

That’s what the Christmas story’s all about.

From My Sketchbook: Portrait 13

How Photography Connects Us, Moves Us, and All that Jazz

Photography.

It does so much more than show a pretty picture. It communicates, it stirs the fires of change, it inspires the soul to a greater theme.

I’m sorry, I’m standing here at my computer, trying to write something epic, but honestly? I barely got any sleep last night, I just watched an amazing comedy movie, and I’m ready for bed.

Who says being your own teacher doesn’t have its advantages? (Like being able to write a completely informal, off topic paper and still get good grades!)

I’m just gonna write it as it is!

Yeah, I like photography. I’ve spent the last 15 weeks studying it, and I’m still not sick of it, so that’s got to tell you something!

Why do I like photography?

No big, grand concepts. No mashing together sage sounding words that I’ve picked up by reading what others have said…

Why is it that I like to pick up a camera and shoot pictures?

One, I’m lazy. What would take a Ton of words and hours of polishing to communicate through writing, with a bit of thought put into the camera controls, I can say the same thing and more with less effort.

Two, the right medium for the right job. With an image I can capture that emotion, that moment that would’ve been too elusive for words. Even when poetry fails to capture something, a photograph sometimes can.

Three, I’ve got letting go issues. I journal a lot, and I collect a lot of things just because I connect a memory to it. My greatest fear is forgetting, so why not love a medium that forever captures a moment in time? That way, if I ever start to forget, if my mind begins to change things around, all I need to do is look at the picture again. A picture is something solid, evidence that this amazing event happened, or that these people were in my life.

Four, it helps me see the awesomeness of God. With photography I have the ability to share a bit of my vision of His goodness, beauty, and power, with other people. I love the fact that I can give glory to His name through images of His world. 

Five, I like images. I like emotion displayed through visuals. I like movies, and how they can stir your soul like a really good book can (and in half the time too!) For me, an image is like a movie; a story, a feeling, an abstract concept all boiled down to a single snapshot frame. It leaves your imagination wondering what happened before the shot was taken and what is going to happen to the scene after this moment that we’re viewing has past.

I guess it comes down to stories once again. No matter what medium I use; a pencil, a keyboard, or a camera, I’m just trying to tell a story. I’m a storyteller. And the stories that pictures can communicate are endless.

The journey of a dancing, joyful brook captured in one moment of its endless travels.

A wounded soldier being flown to the nearest hospital, his face bloody and deformed.

A homeless girl on the streets, holding a kitten as if it is the only thing she has left in this world.

The explosive vividness of fireworks bursting with color in the night sky.

Stories speak to us deeper than logic often can. They touch our hearts, cut like knives, heal wounds too deep to speak of. And photography does that too. It tells stories.

That’s why I like photography.