Photographic Memories

SATURAY 20 NOVEMBER, 2010 ASSISI, ITALY
I marvel at the artistry some people have with photography. My son and I both can take a photograph of some scene, and his seems to live, while mine looks like...well, a picture. We have a mother and daughter in our church back home that seem to be able to photograph a child's thoughts, not only their image. And there was a young woman in our last congregation who posts her photos on a blog, and I still visit there just to enjoy the artistry she possesses. But some things a photograph cannot do.

We have reached again and again for our camera here, hoping to capture the grandeur of some mountain, or the stately castle atop this medieval city. We have taken pictures of dear friends, wanting to remember forever their touch and smile and presence. Yet, photography proves itself mostly futile. Even skilled photographers capture only a shadow of the reverenced moment. The moment itself, the chill-down-the-spine of it, somehow remains illusive. It can only be known to the ones who live it...while they live it. And then it is gone.

We have walked along breathtaking pathways, heard of miraculous happenings, and we've had the desire to somehow possess them--so that we can later share them. But there is no media which can capture and own these places. They are not, after all, photo-ops to be exploited. Here is a living and breathing world which will not be imprisoned in some scrapbook zoo, any more than those places and events happening around you--where you are--right now. They are "once in a lifetime." And we are only able to witness one scene in one place at one time; and that moment--we are only loaned, with no rights to ownership.

We have not simply visited a beautiful place. We have entered into its history--the living and dying and becoming of another place on this earth. Seasons have changed, tears have fallen for joy and in sorrow. And even though we've witnessed and contributed to these days and weeks here in this place so far away from our home, we can never in any true measure define them for any other person.

I pray for the grace of gratefulness. For the contentment one knows when receiving a precious gift. And for the wisdom to treasure these moments enough to show their shadows to others, while guarding their life within my soul.