I have not yet ceased to be amazed how transforming it is to spend time in creation.

The landscape of America is my favorite ‘office’. Here I work outdoors with my hands and my head, a combination of creative inspiration and technical execution that exercises my brain fully. Immersed in the beauty of our world, focused intently on seeing and composing, I slip into the flow of the moment, that deep level of engagement in the work you were specifically designed and gifted to carry out.

It was not difficult to get lost in my work as I photographed layers of sandstone walls in a small slot canyon in southwest Utah

Working in these conditions, I am naturally fulfilled, whole, at peace. Fellowship with my Creator is seamless. I have no sense of need. All the encouragement my soul could desire is there in the seeing and savoring of God’s beauty, and interacting with it to make photographic art.

Inevitably, this glorious life working out in the field must come to an end for a time as I return to ‘regular’ life – living indoors, maintaining a house, finding again that synchronization with my wife, re-engaging with friends and neighbors, running errands, doing chores, spending long days in front of a computer at a desk.

After returning to ‘civilization,’ I find a sense of neediness gradually growing week after week. Old fears and accusations beg for attention. Doubts creep in. My work is solitary and has little positive feedback on a daily basis. I end up in a place where a little encouragement would go a long way, where a few positive words from a friend would do wonders to remind me that pursing the quiet life of an artist and writer for God’s glory is not a life wasted.

This is where my heart was on Sunday as we worshiped at Tampa Covenant Church. And it was here that God so unexpectedly and lovingly met my need: in a short conversation after the service, a mere ten seconds of encouraging words spoken into me by our dear pastor Eric Meyer were the exact words of affirmation I needed to hear in that moment concerning the validity of my work. It was a tender and sweet means of grace from my Father in heaven, a direct and immediate injection of peaceful confidence in God and untethered joy in his love for me.

This is the power of an encouraging word!

The palette of Christmas colors decorates a small winding side canyon on the east side of Zion National Park in autumn

Pastor Eric could not have known I needed it, but he was the vessel God used to speak life. Now I ask myself, who in my circle of family, friends, and acquaintances may be in a place of desperate need for a kind word? What if some who have been placed in my path are today feeling discouraged, soul-parched, perhaps disillusioned, or just weary from this world, their heart silently pleading for just a few life-giving words from a friend to bring fresh light to their journey?

How will I know, without intentionally seeking to live a life of being an encourager to others?

Fallen leaves filling in a cleft in the sandstone of a canyon wall in Zion signals the end of autumn

I so want to pass on these incredible spirit-soaring moments of being encouraged by a friend. I don’t want to be selfish and silent. I want to embrace the vulnerability it requires for me to reach out to others in hopes of brightening their day with some affirming word. I pray I can be that vessel.

Because I am convinced, in virtually all our lives, the need is great for simple encouragement.

“Anxiety in a person’s heart weighs him down, but an encouraging word brings him joy.”

(Proverbs 12:25, NET Bible)