I'm afraid that the continuous workload of HSC is slowly consuming me thus I hardly touch blogger.
I'm certain that the ventilation of certain thoughts and rants are best kept within the pages of my journal rather than on this blogger.
And yet again I'm afraid ..of the future.
So what is the connection between the title of this post, this photograph and the content of this post? It'll take quite an extensive elaboration to convince your understanding and interpretation of this connection. However, I am prepared to do so. Please, do prepare yourself.
This photograph was taken during a night at Engage. It was this very night that I was assigned to take photographs.It was this very night that re-ignited my passion and love for photography again. Oh and how glorious it felt. I don't understand how it came to being but I do understand that God does work in the smallest of ways. Through the times He bursts sun-rays into my room to get me out of bed, the times He gives me peace in escaping reality through reading a book, the times He makes me look into the mirror and smile at what I see. Such little things displaying an enormous love.
This photograph I wanted to tell a story.
A story not needing a main character or plot. But a story that speaks of a life journey with Christ. A story that reveals the vulnerability of the human through the expression of their knees touching the floor in desperation. This story has no ending as every moment of contact with the Saviour is only a beginning of new paragraph. I can't express enough just how powerful God moved in that night, as He does everyday. This night, He touched me again and breathed life into what was dead. He touched me again and grabbed hold of my hand.
This photograph highlights what I need to do.
My fear of the future hits me hard. Really hard. To the point that I physically stay still in shock, mindlessly staring at my wall questioning my existence. Literally. The moment my knees make contact to the floor, the moment my forehead touches the floor with my knees tucked under my chin- is the very moment I feel His embrace. His embrace, though not physically seen, is what motivates me to move on. His embrace that delivers reassurance of His presence in my life. I'm more than hopeful for what He has for me. And I'm more than hopeful that my future is not to harm me but to let me soar into horizons I never would've thought existed nor could reach.
To tell a story is to bring hope in a desolate place.
To tell a story is to deliver from bondage.
To tell a story is to reignite what was burnt out.
To tell a story is to bring life to what was dead.
I want my life story to do just that.
