Rock, Paper, Camera

At a friend’s house this morning and my thoughts came back around to this post. During her morning devotions she sat outside, just where I am now. She sat with a full cup of coffee, His word, and her camera.

My mind was turning a nice shade of green as I walked myself around the image of her–quietly sitting, poised for the sun to shine just so, camera at the ready. She is not a self-proclaimed photographer—so why the camera?

Green fades back to grey as He turns my thoughts to the why of things, the how. How it is that we both move through our mornings. Mine have been a rush, a daily competition with a list, a clock and traffic. I leave the house with a hungry belly and a thirsty mind. Surely both can be satisfied in the moments between logging in and opening shop.

This girl, the one up top, she knows better. She leave the white wicker chair with an empty coffee cup and a full heart.

As for the camera at the ready, photography satisfies the creative urge for her. Knowing her well, the photography is more instant bliss than writing. See, she writes too–in different ways and for different reasons.

And now, just after I moved into her kitchen, she interrupts me with her own jade colored confessions. She feels the urge to create. Yet she longs for blank pages and pen in hand.


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