We anticipate the ceremony, the cross-country move, the long trip, the last goodbye, the first hello, the final destination. We wait for it and ruminate about it and cross off calendar days with joy or fear or love or a mess of all three. And in the waiting, we stand in the bullseye center of high expectation. The weight can be knee-buckling.
The wedding engagement comes with suitcases lined up and filled with lists and planning, and soon your fuzzy someday dreams are outlined in black and white with pink hearts in the margins. The new job comes with a desk filled with papers that belong to you, and now you are being paid to make a difference. The new house has rooms filled up with hope and possibility, and you get to pick out the paint. Still, there is disappointment when you can’t afford the reception you wanted, when your boss expects the impossible, when your roof springs a leak and the grass won’t grow.
I took photos at a wedding this weekend. I’ve been anticipating it for months, and in the looking forward, I got tangled up in fear. What if my camera breaks? What if I miss the kiss? What if I forget something? What if she hates them? The morning of the wedding, I woke up a wreck. I knew I could get good photos. I just wasn’t sure I could breathe in the process. Turns out I am not cut out for the pressure.
The bride and groom are responsible for the promise. The pastor is responsible for the charge. The parents are responsible for the money and the planning, the friends are responsible for the celebration. But me? The photographer is responsible for the story. In the photos, all the planning and the money and the promise and the celebration blend together to make one beautiful, complete, almost human personality. And those tiny cards that would be hanging out in my camera all day carried within them the DNA. I desperately needed them to work.
In a moment of overwhelming worry of all the technical equipment deciding to take a day-long nap, I grabbed the photo cards I had for the wedding, placed them in the palm of my left hand and covered them over with my right. I prayed for beauty, for blessing, and for peace. I prayed for God to give me a creative eye, a heart tender to the quiet moments, a bigger picture. It may seem ridiculous to you, praying over tiny SD cards. But to me, it was freedom. Because that’s when I remembered this verse.
“He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” Colossians 1:17
Every day is the same to Him, loving morning and faithful evening. There isn’t one that stands out heavy to Him. They all rest weightless in Him, held together safe. And so are we. Is there something you need to place in the palm of your hand and cover it over with beauty, blessing, and peace?
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