Every family values its own history, and pictures are a good way to preserve a specific moment in time. Over the years Nate and I dragged our kids to so many photographers’ studios our rooms could have been papered with the pictures. One dinner guest said, “You don’t have any art on your walls, only pictures of your kids.” But that was art to us.
We also loved “artwork” from other families, and Christmas cards were the best source. I’ve saved every photo card ever sent to our home, and each one is mounted in the albums.
Our own Christmas cards always included a photograph, despite every single photo shoot being difficult. I would work hard putting outfits together to coordinate everybody, but no one seemed to appreciate it. I remember the year I bought four matching sweaters, one for each of our boys. As we walked from the car to the studio, Nelson said, “Don’t ask me to wear twin stuff like this again. I feel like a freak.” Despite the opposition, we kept at it.
When looking at photos of other peoples families, I’m convinced (despite smiles and an orderly arrangement) that each picture represents a great deal of parental effort and family tension. The more people in the picture, the harder the task.
Over 37 years of picture-taking, our kids have long-since accepted the ordeal of family photographs. Although they always objected, in the end everybody would cooperate. But since Nate died, we’ve all gained a fresh appreciation for picture-taking. When we look at the photo we took last October, our last with Nate, we’re exceedingly thankful for it. As we assembled to take that shot, we knew it’d be our last opportunity to picture our family with him, and there wasn’t a single objection. I love looking at that picture. Despite the heavy heart beneath every smile, including Nate’s, it’s a treasure.
These days photo-taking has changed dramatically because of digital cameras. Pictures come easily and have less value than in the past. What hasn’t changed, however, is a desire to somehow preserve relationships or encapsulating a moment by taking family pictures.
This year at Afterglow there was no opposition to the family photo idea, even though it was a challenge with five babies and their non-synced sleep-schedules. But this time all of us have been impacted by how tentative life can be, and none of us can say if the family might change dramatically before we get a chance to take another picture. And when it does change, will it be an addition or a subtraction? We don’t know that, either.
Jesus holds the keys to life… and death. He’s in charge, not us, and he hasn’t guaranteed tomorrow. So while we’re busy making the most of today, we should take lots of pictures.
“His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation.” (Luke 1:50)
