You know I’m not the world’s best photographer, and you also know I don’t have a nice camera. I still use the one on my old phone. What I miss most about my early days of blogging with my now broken digital camera was the macro-photography feature. I could take pictures of tiny pinecones on carpets of pine, intricate snowflakes on the pavement, and ice-globed berries that rose like royal scepters into the winter sky.
But today, I gaze at what looks like a charred and forgotten landscape of dead flowers, and I put my hand behind the smallest dried flower. I look through my phone at what I’m holding and realize that it’s sharply focused. I snap a picture and realize that because my camera focuses so easily on my enormous hand, the flower inevitably comes into focus. I take my hand away, and the focus holds for a moment. Now I see don’t see death; I see a golden rose perfectly preserved. There’s beauty here, in any landscape.
I think about my hand that brings everything into focus and that allows me to isolate and view from the clearest perspective. I think about God’s great, steadying, focusing hand that, when situated against any situation, brings clarity and beauty.
Yes, I’ve always loved the small, otherwise hidden thing that God places here if only I stop and look.
As I turn to go, I follow the afternoon light to the old oak tree that refuses to drop her leaves. It’s cold and barren until I follow that glorious light that makes everything in its path golden. The hand and the light: What God holds and illuminates becomes something beautiful. I will keep looking for God’s beauty for the rest of my life. That’s always been what it means to live with flair.