One of the greatest joys of my summer is
to walk a sandy shore, drinking in the sun
and sea air. As soon as I walk over the
dunes and onto the wet sand, any care or
worry that I might shoulder floats away with
the sea breeze. My childhood smile is
instantly restored, my creative thoughts
bubble over, and I make sure I bring lots
of sunscreen, so that I can linger.
On such a day one summer, I found myself
walking the beach at a leisurely pace, camera
in hand. I was drawn by geometry, cast
shadows, and strong lines. There was some-
thing that intrigued me in the distant scene
as I approached, though it was admittedly
not what typically draws my eye. The
weathered wood and stone left clues of what
had once been, fencing, old pileons, rope, and
debris all gathered together, telling a story.
I would not realize which story until my printer
jetted out the day's images.
My heart and eye have come to look deeper
than what is on the surface, that new vision
and perspective might come. It is much like the
art exercise of turning a reference upside-down,
so that you are forced not to draw what you know,
allowing your eye to see a new way. This day, I
saw much. As the image appeared, I saw the
Cross. I saw those who stood and watched below.
I saw His face. In that nano-second, when the
printer ink was still wet, I saw Jesus as I had
never seen Him before. It pierced my heart.
Today, I remember that image, which still cuts
deep. I will never, ever forget what He
willingly suffered, that we might be with Him
eternally, and I rejoice in His resurrection on
this Resurrection Day.