It Isn't About the Photo

Have you ever been in the midst of extreme beauty and been overcome with a sense of intense longing; a knowing that there is a part of your soul that may never be satisfied; a longing for fulfillment?

I recently took a vacation to the Colorado Mountains with my family.  I needed to go on this vacation and at one point my husband even asked me, “Why do you need this trip now . . . and why Colorado?”  Every year since our boys were babies (they’re now 17 and 12) we would travel from Texas to South Dakota over the fourth of July to visit family.  Our Colorado vacation would replace this trip.  I couldn't explain to him what was pulling me there – I just knew I longed to go.  I think I'm at a bend in the road on my journey in life; I can glimpse the promise of what lies ahead but am having difficulty letting go of what lies behind, or moving past what holds me fast to where I am.

I had planned to take pictures; I researched where and when to get the shots I wanted.  I also researched events and places for each of the boys, specific to their interests – I was looking for beauty, rest and the perfect mountain landscape photo. I had a picture firmly planted in my mind that I wanted to capture; I was going to bring home a piece of something I knew I couldn't possess.

We were there five days.  On the last morning of our vacation, I woke at 5:20 a.m. and decided I would try to get that sunrise photo – it was on my agenda - to find the perfect mountain scene, hike to the top of some mountain and capture a glorious sunrise.  My boys (including my husband) had promised they would come with me but we hadn't been able to make it happen.  As I lay there, I decided it was something I needed to do alone.  I quickly put my shoes on, grabbed my camera, and still in my pajamas, stole out the back door of the cabin.  I climbed a steep hill (not a mountain) and walked to the end of the gravel road where I could see the sun just beginning to cast a glow on the mountain range behind our cabin.

I quickly began changing my camera settings for the perfect shot – recalling all the magazines articles I had read and instruction I had received in classes.  When I thought I had everything on the camera set perfectly, I was ready to put the camera on my tripod and frame the shot that would fulfill my longing to capture something beautiful.  Tripod?  Oh yeah, it’s locked in the back of the van – no I didn't bring the keys with me.  The sun was now casting beautiful gold tones, pinks, and lavender colors across the mountains and into the clouds that were accumulating rapidly in the sky.  I watched helplessly and then I changed my settings to something less than optimal and took the best picture I could.  I stood there another minute willing myself to remember this beautiful sunrise.  Disappointed with my missed photo opportunity, I turned to walk back down the road to the cabin.  I stopped.  The sky was almost black; storm clouds had gathered behind me and at the end of the road was a brilliant, vibrant rainbow.  I put my camera to my eye and took one photo . . . before the battery died.  Cold raindrops began to fall.  I shoved my camera under my shirt; laughing as I headed back.

So, how does all this tie into that longing I described?  Well, as I walked back to the cabin, I was struck with a sense of gratitude.  I had experienced a glorious mountain sunrise – not one I could share through pictures – but didn't that make it a much more intimate gift – a gift given in secret.  I had seen a rainbow so bright, up close and vibrant that I was stopped in my tracks, hardly able to breathe.  And what about my family . . . I had been given precious unhurried time with them.

I realized that these intimate moments, this wild beauty, is only a glimpse of what was and is to come.  And that is the longing of my soul – the longing for a time past, when God and man walked together in a perfect, beautiful world . . . and for a future time when my walk with Him and awareness of His glory and great love for me will be forever this sharply in focus without the distractions of my flesh and worldly longings.

As we head home, I will miss the painful beauty that is Colorado, but I will always return when I need my soul refreshed and long to encounter the wild and beautiful God that loves me.  I understand now that my greatest longing is and always will be for Him and that to my great relief, He is eager to satisfy me.  He brought me to Colorado to remind me my other desires will always pale in comparison to my longing for Him.