Look, Delete, and Retake
I don't really remember the first time I enjoyed taking pictures. I just know that over the years I have grown to love it! I love the way the world looks through a camera lens...it gives the world a whole new perspective. I don't care if it is trees, hills, people or buildings because I want a picture of it! I used to be that person who takes pictures of everything even when I know it will not turn out. My talent is tiny however ever once in a while I will get the perfect picture...it makes all the effort that goes into picture taking worth it.
I think I actually received my first camera in college...right before my first mission trip. I took about 10 rolls of film in about 6 weeks...first time to
Europe, 14 rolls in 4 weeks....yes I said ROLLS OF FILM. I am aware that those are becoming
obsolete along with mail and rabbit ears for your
TV:) I took all those pictures and less half of them were worth showing around (not that it stopped me). While in
France I finally bought a digital camera. When I developed my first roll of film and it cost almost $20, I knew I couldn't afford to take pictures with my 'real' camera...My love of digital photography began. I took even more pictures and more pictures and more pictures. I
believed the number was around 3000 in 2 years. My problem is that I don't delete the bad ones. I know the perk of using a digital is because you get to look at it immediately and if you don't like it, delete it and retake the picture. In fact the minute you take a picture of someone their immediate response is "let me see it." "oh delete it I look fat, or my face looks weird, what is wrong with my hair, etc". "take it again!" Maybe that one will be perfect....
We are a little spoiled. Since our digital camera lets us delete and retake in about 2 seconds flat why can't we do that with our words. I cannot even begin to list the times I wish I could delete and redo something I said...I tend to let things slip, sometimes it is funny, other times
embarrassing and other times painful or hateful. Unfortunately once they are out there I can't delete them...
Photography with an old fashioned camera takes time...you have to take a few
minutes and look through the view finder to see if it looks like you want it too. You have to pause and wait for everyone to get in place and be ready. Because once you take it, you can't delete it and redo. Maybe I need to apply the same principal to what I say...think about it, then decide if I should say it...Retakes aren't an option.
Paradise City (not a spiritual post at all:)
I remember most of my high school dances. What I wore, who i danced with, the fun and the exhaustion the next day all stick out in my mind... Saturday night I had a flashback to the very first dance I went to. I was in seventh grade and had finally reached the high school side of things. We moved to the high school end of my K-12 school in seventh grade. We got to hang with the big kids...it was the homecoming dance in the fall of 1991. The theme was Love of a Lifetime by Firehouse. That song still makes my smile. Hair bands were still popular. They hadn't fully been replaced by Nirvana or the Red Hot Chili Peppers or booty rap music. I loved to jam to Poison, Aerosmith and Guns N Roses. And by jam, I mean head bang. I am now ashamed to admit that I spent many hours head banging to that type of music. What I remember the most about that post football game dance was standing directly in front of the huge loud speakers slinging my long blonde hair in total abandon to some of the best songs of the late eighties and early nineties. In fact the whiplash I suffered that weekend as a result of that slinging also still sticks. For some reason I remember the song Paradise City by Guns N Roses...which is what caused my flasback.
Saturday while driving to pick up my niece I was listening to the Classic Rock station and that song came on. I turned it up as loud as my mother's minivan will allow. Then reality struck...I was driving to pick my niece up from her first high school dance (she is a freshman this year!). The reality of my adulthood hits me at the oddest times...Saturday I couldn't help but laugh at the change in where I am. 15 years ago I was the one being picked up early and no I was the driver. But I was able to take comfort in the fact that I can still appreciate my music loud even if some of it now plays on the classic rock station:)
my daily self
Gracious
Slow to Anger
Holy
Loving
Pure
Comforting
Dependable
Joyful
Patient
Righteous
Wise
Truthful
Faithful
Merciful
Just
Fair
Honest
Intentional
A small list of the Characteristics of God....How often do I truly attempt to live those characteristics...everyday, all day??
Check the Sarcasm
I grew up in a traditional Southern Baptist church and by traditional I mean die hard... 3 hymns (vs. 1,2, & 4- Never the 3rd!), offering, special music, 20 minute sermons and out by 12. It was predictable and so comforting. I was in college before I ever heard a praise and worship song. I almost passed out when I learned that some churches didn't even use the hymnal. Growing up we used the baptist hymnal more than we used the bible.
When I moved overseas I jumped the traditional ship and became a liberal Southern Baptist. Well as liberal as you can be and still be extremely conservative:) Praise music galore padded by serious theological discussion. Who needs those sunday school stories AGAIN. We agree to disagree and try to live life in this world instead of in a church building.
Returning to the states pushed me back into that traditional world. I rebelled for a few years thinking that typical churches couldn't satisfy me. I went out of guilt and only attended at a bare minimum with a constant stream of sarcastic dialogue running through my head. 4 years later and I am actively involved in that "typical Southern Baptist Church". We are still not singing the 3rd verse.
But maybe I need to stop and check the sarcasm at the door for a little while...I grew up in "that" church and I loved "those"hymns. I find myself occasionally sitting back and enjoying the comfort it offers. I am glad churches can be rearranged to bring comfort and nostalgic smiles to its members.
I like small groups and getting out of the building. Passion conferences changed worship music for a whole generation. However Just as I am and Victory in Jesus did the same for other generations. So ever so often I am gonna check the sarcasm and enjoy...as long as they don't sing Count your Many Blessings (chuck ruined that song for me!)
The FEAR
I am a coward of the worst kind sometimes. I have probably spent half of my life absorbed in books. I don't remember a time I didn't enjoy reading. I don't know when I learned to read; however since then I have had a major love affair. I am truly not picky about the genre. I tend to lean in the direction of romantic or historical fiction. Action, comedy, non-fiction, memoir, romance, mystery (sorry i can't really do science fiction) and fantasy (well okay harry potter:) are just a few of the types of books I love. I become completely absorbed in them. I want to be the characters and live their lives. I picture the details in my mind, feel there joy and pain. A good book can make me cry just as easily as a heart warming hallmark commercial:)
However my secret passion is writing. I have dreamed of writing the next great novel since I wrote my first story in Ms. Ayers 5th grade english class. (yes it was a romance! I was 10...give me a break.) I can not even begin to tell you about the hundreds of stories I have started and never finished, fiction, non-ficition and memoirs...the list is truly endless. Unfortunately I have never had the courage to finish one or get past the second chapter for that matter. I have to admit it is because I don't want someone to read it and not love it. I would hope I would get the pity nod but I would want it to be good, really good. I don't let anyone read what I write. I even struggle with what I blog and criticize it to death sometimes. There is always someone more talented than me. I always let the stop me.
So this year I really want to write that book. I have the idea and have started the research. I have written several pages and now the fear has struck. I am hoping that admitting my goal will force me to complete it. I have told a few friends mostly because they are part of the research:) I am hoping I will have the courage to finish. If I get absorbed in it than maybe someone else will...
