Category Archives: Wyoming

Mystery is Spoiled by a Word


On this last day of 2015 I am reflecting on the images created since I began this blog. I’m filled with gratitude for the majesty of God I’ve been blessed to experience, and for the photographic work that resulted.

I leave you now with a gallery of my favorites from the first 18 months of blogging, trusting that the pictures will speak for themselves and reveal the fingerprint of the Divine…



“Mystery is spoiled by a word.”

– Brennan Manning




I Feel You Through The Pain


[Note: today I share with you more images from my troubled season of 2013]

Last week I wrote about the extreme anxiety and panic that enveloped me beginning in the summer of 2013 (you can read that first part here – When Joy Breaks Into Your Suffering). Today I would like to take you a little deeper into a remarkable moment of that stressful time.

It was mid-July in Tampa, Florida. Daily torrential thunderstorms amid near-100% humidity and 90-degree temps kept me imprisoned inside. A little over a week had passed since my wife had rushed me to the emergency room late at night for sheer panic from the fear of not being able to breathe properly. The worst of that panic had subsided but I was left with a constant attack of anxious thoughts banging around somewhere in a place so deep I could not access it to tell it it quiet down.

Day after day, it was the same: all variety of fears assaulting me, a sense of impending doom, nameless dread.

One night in this harried state of mind, just before bedtime, I slid a pair of headphones over my ears and dialed up an album of worship music on my iPhone, while I paced nervously back and forth through the house. I was desperate for even a sliver of mental and emotional solace.

And then the unexpected happened. Another life moment that I had absolutely no control over. The Divine broke through.

As the music and lyrics coursed through my brain, I suddenly realized the anxious thoughts were gone – completely. In the place of those haunting voices was One voice, with a much different message than I’d been hearing lately.

It was my Maker.

And he flooded my mind with the affirmation that he has me, I am his, he isn’t going anywhere, and he loves and cares for me more deeply than I will ever be able to comprehend.

I was struck down now, not by fears, but by a pure unexplainable joy of being truly loved. I collapsed to my knees, and wept countless tears of shear joy and thankfulness.


Latourell Falls plunges down a lichen-covered basalt cliff in the Columbia River Gorge, OR

Latourell Falls plunges down a lichen-covered basalt cliff in the Columbia River Gorge, OR


I so wish this was the Happily Ever After ending. But alas, anxieties were pounding away the next morning, and in fact it would take many more months, with some very difficult times ahead, before I would be restored to sanity, peace, and solidity. But there was something significant in that moment of my God breaking through my nightmare and reminding me of his gentle love. I knew then that he would bring victory in the proper time. And that he would not forsake me no matter how long this trial would last.

It was with this heart-knowledge of God’s stunning love that I departed Florida for the trek back West that I wrote of last week. And in that journey he would remind me again and again of his love as I experienced the disarming beauty of his creation, camera in hand. Today I share with you more images made during that 2013 season of brokenness punctuated with joy.


I vibrant lily pad blossom brightens the banks of the Yellowstone River, Wyoming

I vibrant lily pad blossom brightens the banks of the Yellowstone River, Wyoming


As I sat down to write today, I reclined in a chaise lounge outside, queued up a worship song on my iPhone, and leaned back to gaze up at the sky. There were hundreds of small puffy clouds against a canvas of late-afternoon blue sky, looking like pieces of a puzzle I so wanted to put together. The music and lyrics kicked in as I admired the mysterious beauty of God’s workmanship.

And again I knew in my heart the glory of his bottomless love.

This is the song that today has me in tears of ecstatic joy. I hope something in these lyrics, or these pictures, might resonate with your own heart, wherever you may be on your journey:


I see you in the sunrise
I see you in the rain
I see you in the laughter
I feel you through the pain

Everything that you have made is beautiful
Oh, my God, I can’t believe my eyes
But in all of this to think that you would think of me
Makes my heart come alive

Your love is like a mighty fire deep inside my bones
I feel like I could climb a thousand mountains all at once
And I never have to wonder if somebody cares for me
I love the Maker
And the Maker loves me

I see you, you are creation
I see the grandness of your majesty
The universe is singing all your glory
I can’t believe you live inside of me

Everything that you have made is beautiful
Oh, my God, I can’t believe my eyes
But in all of this to think that you would think of me
Makes my heart come alive

Your love is like a mighty fire deep inside my bones
I feel like I could climb a thousand mountains all at once
And I never have to wonder if somebody cares for me
I love the Maker
And the Maker loves me

More than just some words upon a page
You’ve shown me in a million ways
But there is one that stands above them all
Hands of creation on a cross

Your love is like a mighty fire deep inside my bones
I feel like I could climb a thousand mountains all at once
And I never have to wonder if somebody cares for me
I love the Maker
And the Maker loves me

You can view the official music video here: The Maker by Chris August

A grove of aspen glow in the soft light of dusk along American Fork Canyon, Utah

A grove of aspen glow in the soft light of dusk along American Fork Canyon, Utah

When Joy Breaks Into Your Suffering


[Today I share images I was blessed to make during a difficult season of suffering]

As I write this, it’s a wonderfully lazy Sunday afternoon in Ohio. My belly is full of lunchtime delishishness whipped up by my sweet sister-in-law whose home we are visiting. Relaxing on the patio in a Tommy Bahama beach chair, I’m aware of little else besides the warming sunshine on my skin, trees filled with eagerly chirping birds, an aimless spring breeze rustling the bottom of my cargo shorts on this sublime 60-degree day.

My mind is at ease. I’m relaxed in the deepest interior places. I feel solidly grounded and centered. There exists not even a hint of anxiety.

But this was decidedly not my state of mind in the summer of 2013.

After the upheaval of a major cross-country move – leaving the Pacific Northwest where I lived my whole life to face the unfamiliarity of Florida, with the death of my mother a month before the move still haunting my emotions, you could say my plate was full of adjustment challenges. And then my body revolted against the high heat and extreme humidity of stormy subtropical summer weather, and that was the last straw.

Something snapped that July evening: suddenly I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my anxiety levels skyrocketed, and I wound up in the local emergency room. A seemingly endless battery of tests were performed by the doctors, with nothing conclusive found, so I was sent home with a prescription for Adavan.


Early winter makes its presence felt in October with snow in the La Sal Mountains of Utah

Early winter makes its presence felt in October with snow in the La Sal Mountains of Utah


More doctors and more tests followed, as I was absolutely convinced something had gone awry physically. The days were filled with misery in a way I nor my precious wife have ever known before, with a strange anxiety almost constantly barraging my nervous system, fears running amok, a vague sense of dread, the threat of a panic breakdown always lying just under the surface.

One of the blood tests had revealed something concerning so I made a follow-up appointment with a medical specialist – not in Florida but in Washington state where I still had my primary care physician, as we realized I would be better off returning to family and friends in the West for the remainder of the summer. In late July I set out in my truck camper alone on the long road trip back to the PNW.

It was a summer of mental and physical suffering. Really, the worst suffering I have experienced so far in this life. And brutally difficult for my wife as well.

But that trek back West, and the ensuing months spent in my home region surrounded by caring friends, would begin a healing process. It wasn’t easy. And it wasn’t over when I eventually returned to Florida in October, as it would take the rest of 2013 and part of 2014 to fully solidify my mind, emotions, and body.


The blue cast of shaded light on river rocks contrasts with the green reflections of trees in Washington

The blue cast of shade on river rocks contrasts with reflections of green trees in Washington


True to how God has often worked in my life, photography of his creation became a means of much grace during that anxious summer. Connecting with the beauty of the landscape in the West, engaging in the contemplative process of forming compositions with my camera, proved once again to be medicinal.

I cannot explain how, in the middle of uncontrollable and painful anxiety pressing down on me, I was able to enter the flow of creating and produce memorable photographic work. First in Yellowstone during my solitary drive back to the West, then along a river with friends in Washington, and finally in October along my route back to Florida through Utah and Colorado – inexpressible joy would pierce through my darkness over and over as I beheld the majesty and beauty of the One who formed me, displayed in the works of His hands.

Grace was at work.

As I share with you today some of the images made during that troubled season, my heart soars with thankfulness to my God for how he never ceased to be at work throughout my suffering, with humble amazement for where he has brought me now to a place of rest, and with grattitude for these images that are tokens of his merciful care even during the worst times this life has thrown at me.


An atmosphere of mystery swirls around a thermal hot springs at Yellowstone National Park

An atmosphere of mystery swirls around a thermal hot springs at Yellowstone National Park


I’m also thankful for that time of suffering because it has given me new compassion and understanding for folks who are enduring their own difficult times, which perhaps is some of you reading now. Suffering seems to find all of us in this life. If you are in the midst of personal crisis and pain, I would be honored to support you by listening to your story, and lifting you up in prayer. If you wish to share with me privately, I’m ready to hear with a gentle heart. You may use the confidential Contact tab at the top of the page.


God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort.
He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others.
When they are troubled,
we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.

(2 Corinthians 1:3b-4, NLT)


The San Juan Mountains in southwest Colorado come alive with mesmerizing color in early October

The San Juan Mountains in southwest Colorado come alive with mesmerizing color in October

The God of Facebook


[Today I feature images that have been shared only on my Facebook page]

One year ago I began to consider leaving the dark ages and joining the modern world of social media.

For the longest time I had been mystified at the apparent love folks had for Facebook. I didn’t understand the point – after all, we already had email 😉 As an introverted personality, the thought of being more connected with potentially large numbers of people on the internet had about as much appeal as scheduling a root canal with my dentist.

But things were changing in me at a fundamental level. I was planning a major 5-month work trip across America to reignite my vocation as a photographer of the landscape, returning to a calling I had tried to walk away from due to many years of negative baggage in my head. And a desire was welling up to find a medium where I could share with others images of the beauty and glory I would be blessed to photograph in those approaching months. So the idea of joining Facebook entered my radar screen.

As I began researching tutorials targeted to photographers using social media, I happened to come across a particular blog where the author was highly critical of Facebook, having apparently decided for everyone that it was only used to make oneself look good in front of others, that it did not present the real person, that it should be called “fakebook.” What startled me was that the author was a pastor. I wondered to myself why he would choose only a negative set of goggles from which to view this social media tool, why he would be only critical and judgemental while simultaneously missing the potential graces God could be bringing through relational interaction on Facebook. I felt sad for the people he was supposed to be shepherding, that he would automatically assume the worst in them, as if he could discern all heart motives.

And I wondered, isn’t this pastor’s god big enough to be the God of Facebook too, just as He is God of all creation, always at work to magnify His glory through an endless variety of means of grace?


An October sunrise brings glorious life to the Towers of the Virgin in Zion National Park

An October sunrise brings glorious life to the Towers of the Virgin in Zion National Park


A few months would pass with social media simmering on my mind’s back burner. The final catalyst needed to launch me into online interaction was learning at the last moment of my 30-year high school reunion being held just a couple hours from where I was currently photographing in Oregon in early summer of 2014.

And so with some trepidation I created a Facebook account. And what followed amazed me.

Within a few weeks this quiet, often reclusive introvert was on his way to a couple hundred friends. Right from the outset there were very meaningful conversations happening via Facebook’s messaging. Old friendships that had died off years ago were beautifully reborn even better than before, such as reuniting with my best friend from high school, David Carson, whose love and loyalty I will never again take for granted.

I unexpectedly reconnected with a middle school neighbor on a deeply profound level and was privileged to share hearts, stories of our brokenness, and spiritual encouragement before she was suddenly taken from this life a month later. Marni is missed by all who knew her.

A new friend I’ve never met in person (hi Kelly!) has come into my life and became a partner in the daily walk of faith. I was moved to tears when she messaged a powerful and beautifully written prayer for me to help me through a difficult struggle.

Friends have shared the joys of becoming parents, of celebrating an anniversary with a cherished spouse, of rejoicing in the growth and accomplishments of their children, or simply shared fun pics of their much-needed weekend getaway or family vacation.

There have been posts from friends about moments of feeling depressed, or asking for needed financial support, or requesting prayer for their fight against cancer, or prayer for their friends experiencing tragedy and suffering.

I’ve seen the heart of a friend who champions the cause of the poor and disenfranchised and has thus helped me become more aware and compassionate (thank you Angel!). I have acquired friends from all walks of life, many who are very different from me – some who are Christian and some who are atheist or agnostic, some who are straight and some who are gay, some who are staunchly conservative and some who are liberal and progressive – and all of them help me stretch and grow in some way.


Mount Rushmore inspires the huge variety of folks that compose our American melting pot

Mount Rushmore inspires the huge variety of folks that compose our American melting pot


As I examine this fruit that has come from Facebook engagement, I have two thoughts: first, I sincerely thank all of my FB friends for opening your lives up to me, for your grace in reconnecting even after you may have heard nothing from me the past 30 or more years. Thank you for letting me express who I am, and for all your encouragement from the photography and writing I have shared.

Second, I cannot help recalling the discouraging words of that pastor’s blog, and to see just how much he may have missed in his negative perspective – that our sovereign God is indeed the God of Facebook, just as he is God over all of life. And He clearly delights in using social media as a means for the expression of much beauty and joy and encouragement among people, if that is indeed what a person chooses to seek in it.

Thank you God that your glory and grace can shine wherever you please, including in our relationships via the internet!


Clouds at sunset create a compelling reflection in a pond at Yellowstone National Park

Clouds at sunset create a compelling reflection in a pond at Yellowstone National Park

The Loss of a Light


High school can be brutal. We all likely have memories of the constant weight of peer pressure, the desire to conform so you don’t stick out from the crowd and get mocked, the fear in your belly as you try to engage socially without looking like a fool.

And most of us probably remember those who, for whatever reason, did not quite fit in, and how they suffered for that. One of those in my high school was a girl named Marni.

Marni was one of the first kids to show me kindness when I moved from Idaho to Oregon as an awkward and terrified seventh-grader. We were neighbors and rode the same bus. In high school my evolving friendships took me into different social circles than Marni, and I regret to this day that we did not develop a stronger friendship back then.

There really was no good reason Marni should have suffered as an outcast in school, for she was adorable and had a sweet temperament. But she was extremely shy, and that was enough for the harsh conformist system of high school to discard her. She had almost no friends in our school, no sense of being valued for who she was, certainly no sense of belonging. Sadly, I was among those who let her slip under the radar.


Poppies explode with color on a hillside in the Merced River Canyon, California

Poppies explode with color on a hillside in the Merced River Canyon, California


Now more than thirty years have passed. I finally joined the Facebook world this summer and learned of my high school class reunion event in August, and on the reunion page I saw the profile for Marni. Memories of my childhood neighbor flooded my mind and I felt an unexplainable sense of her suffering, both back then in school as well as in her adulthood since. I felt compelled to connect with her at the reunion, like a brother who cares for a sister, and before the gathering I began praying over our time together, and praying for all of my other classmates as well.

The high school reunion was indeed an incredible time, I think for everyone who attended. It felt like almost no years had passed as classmates hugged and fellowshipped and related to one another as caring adults, without the immature social class structure of our youth. And among those many wonderful connections there that I am so grateful for was a unique bonding with Marni.

We were able to be vulnerable and share our respective stories of brokenness. I felt deep compassion as she talked with me about how brutal high school was for her, and as she also told me of much more pain she experienced later on in life. And she patiently entered my world also and allowed me to be transparent about my failings over the years.

I had the pleasure of meeting her husband Michael and enjoying conversation with him, and I was so happy she found a quality man to love and value her. I was already looking forward to next summer when my wife could join me for an informal classmate picnic so she could get to know Marni and Michael as well.

In the past several weeks since the high school reunion I have kept in touch with Marni. I wanted to be a brotherly encourager to her, and she ended up being a strong encourager to me. She regularly read my blog and told how it blessed her, and one day she sketched a beautiful graphic to illustrate the phrase ‘all creation sings’ as a logo idea for my website.

I kept her in frequent prayer and thanked God for the blessing of this reconnection.


A beautiful sketch created by my friend Marni to illustrate 'All Creation Sings'

A beautiful sketch created by my friend Marni to illustrate ‘All Creation Sings’


Then suddenly without warning, this friendship came to a halt when I learned this Saturday that Marni had passed away in her sleep.

This is where I have no adequate words as a writer.

I am still raw. The pain of tragic and unexpected loss is haunting me. I cannot wrap my mind around it. Marni was too young at only 48. Her departure was too abrupt.

And if my grief as a recent friend hurts this much, I cannot imagine what her husband and all of her daughters must be going through. My heart goes out to each of them. I feel broken for them. I cry out to our Heavenly Father on their behalf.

Today, two things about Marni’s life are beginning to bring some hopefulness to my heart: first, that her gentle spirit of acceptance and love touched so many lives (as evidenced by the outpouring on Facebook). I do not think she realized just how much of a light she was, blessing so many people. Second, Marni confessed faith and trust in Christ as Savior, so I know that today she is with Him for all eternity, enjoying His amazing glory and pure love in a way that we only get mere glimpses of now in our fallen world.

I pray the Father would continue pouring out abundant mercy and comfort on all who are grieving the loss of gentle Marni. And I pray that somehow through the pain, there will be people who follow Marni’s example of turning to Jesus as their hope for this life and eternity to come. May God be glorified in our suffering.

I close with words of Jesus that my heart needs to hear and experience over and over again:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  (Matthew 11:28-30, NIV)


Shafts of sunlight break through storm clouds in rural Wyoming

Shafts of sunlight break through storm clouds in rural Wyoming

Feeling the Love in Yellowstone


Perhaps at no other time do I feel the love of God surrounding me, carrying me along, and permeating the deepest nooks and crannies of my soul, than when I am out in creation forming compositions with my camera. And among the varied landscape beauty that is America, there are a handful of places that God’s gracious love feels especially personal for me.  Yellowstone National Park is one of these.

Yellowstone is famous for its wildlife and rightly so, but what most consumes me when photographing there is the other-wordly landscape of  hot springs and mineral pools. I find these remarkable geothermal features fascinating in their abstract beauty, and to photograph them makes me feel somewhat like a painter putting colorful brushstroke to canvas, with a strong sense that I am making ‘art’. That is not always the feeling I get as a photographer, and I relish how this wild landscape sets me free to explore and play.


A golden pattern of lines in the terraces at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone

A golden pattern of lines in the terraces at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone


I was excited to return to this magnificent corner of  Wyoming a couple months ago. The first place I headed upon evening arrival was the upper terraces of Mammoth Hot Springs. This place evokes a sense of wonder as I roam about the mineral formations, often grinning childishly and even chuckling out loud at times in sheer delight at the crazy visual goodness before me. On this particular evening storm clouds had moved in, softening the light to enhance a satisfying composition of golden patterns of curving lines in the terrace. Moving further down the trail I was struck by the skeleton figures of two barren trees and used them as a foreground overlooking a mineral flow that resembled the best special effects from a modern science fiction movie. The moment of grace occurred when late-day sunlight made its way under the cloud canopy and gently highlighted the colorful steaming terrace, set against the backdrop of dark blue rain clouds.


Late evening sun highlights the steaming terraces set against storm clouds

Late evening sun highlights the steaming terraces set against storm clouds


A second day of scouting and shooting brought a short but steep hike up the face of a hill overlooking the famous Grand Prismatic Spring. This largest of all hot springs in America and third largest in the world is surrounded by a riot of color that overloads the visual mind with its in-your-face glory. The usual tourist path to see Grand Prismatic is along a boardwalk at ground level, but the view afforded from trekking up the adjacent hillside is more than worth the effort. From this high ground I was able to look down on the swirling bands of bold color, and selected a telephoto lens to concentrate the eye on the best section of landscape candy. Steam rising from the spring added another element of mystery to this spectacular spot in one of America’s most beloved national parks.


Steam rises off the rainbow-colored cGrand Prismatic Spring evoke an alien landscape

Steam rises off the rainbow-colored alien landscape of Grand Prismatic Spring


Here is where the love of God becomes so tangible to me: first, that he blesses me simply to be in this stunning place! And that he has given me eyes to see, a spirit to resonate with the unique beauty, and a craft that allows me to physically engage it rather than to only observe. It’s truly the Creator’s art, not mine, yet he invites me to come and experience it and use vision and tools to make something out of his raw materials that I can call my ‘own’ work.  For me this is pure amazing grace! What profoundly personal love from my Father in heaven, the One who knit me together in my mother’s womb and frees me to live out of his exact design for me.


A Man Obsessed


One of the greatest movie-going experiences of my life was in 1977 when my twelve-year-old eyes widened with excitement and intrigue during a theater viewing of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. The idea of aliens captured my imagination, and Richard Dreyfuss’ masterful performance of a man completely obsessed drew me into the story. But it was the iconic shape of the fascinating basalt columns that haunted Dreyfuss’ character (and his mashed potatoes) that most stuck with me as a boy, and continued to intrigue long into adulthood.


The iconic basalt columns of Devils Tower, made famous by the film Close Encounters of the Third Kind

The iconic shape of Devils Tower, made famous by the film Close Encounters of the Third Kind


In 2008 I was able to make my first pilgrimage to this amazing piece of geography – Devils Tower National Monument in northeast Wyoming.  But that visit was a way-too-brief couple of hours. And so finally, after nearly 37 years from the day this piece of rock became lodged in my conscience, I was blessed with an opportunity to spend several days at the monument this June and to make a few images that I felt did some justice to its magnificence.

Driving that first afternoon through delightful wooded hills toward Devils Tower it was sunny with lovely puffy clouds, but by the time I arrived it had turned overcast with a storm brewing. It wasn’t looking good for the late evening light I had planned to get striking the tower, but with the smallest hope I drove away from the congregation of tourists and onto the scenic dirt road where the best view positioned to catch the western sunset was found. Just as I feared there was no light show due to the heavy cloud cover, and I watched as the approaching lightning increased and the storm began to threaten with crackles of thunder. I packed the gear back into the truck and took an affectionate look at this magnificent butte. Though no quality image had been made on this night, I was deeply grateful to our Heavenly Father to be standing there.

As I was getting ready to head to camp for a typical late dinner of sardines and rye crackers, there began the most subtle glow of pink in the clouds around the Tower, the very last bit of warm post-sunset light fighting to get underneath the storm covering. In a panic I grabbed the camera and tripod and furiously set up for the shot right where I stood, and was able to make two exposures before the lights went completely out on the color. The pink glow was subtle on the digital file in camera, but I was hopeful that the incredible raw capture ability of my Pentax 40-megapixel medium format camera combined with the extraordinary tool of Adobe Lightroom software would combine to make the processed image sing with all the glory I surely felt as I witnessed it. And after working on the image, I believe it is indeed singing. What a grace from the Lord that night!


Devils Tower before the storm


With day turning into new day I found it impossible to leave Devils Tower. No, this could not be a brief fly-by visit. The wooded campground with breathtaking Tower view, the delicious early summer air and perfect warmth, the intrigue of hiking around the base of the tower, and the peaceful location for writing my very first blog post that began, all conspired to stretch my stay here to five nights. And during this time I too became a man obsessed with this iconic shape, or at least obsessed with witnessing another moment of glory and hopefully capturing it well. Each evening here for five days in a row I would head to the scenic dirt road and set up and wait, soaking up the atmosphere of a very special location while yearning for great sunset light.

On my last day, a couple hours before it was time to go wait for sunset, the park rangers drove through the campground warning everyone of a severe thunderstorm headed our way. As the dark clouds moved in the winds became tremendous and water began pouring down in sheets. I was no longer feeling safe in my small pop-up truck camper and I drove through the downpour a short distance to the KOA and was drenched just from walking to their door. As I waited out this crazy storm inside the KOA office with many others our cell phones suddenly went off in unison with an emergency tornado warning! I’m thankful to say the tornado did not materialize in our location, and the high winds and torrential rains eventually subsided. So with the storm moving on I was able to go back to the scenic spot for my final attempt at capturing the majesty of Devils Tower, and that evening was blessed with ethereal warm light glowing behind and to the sides of the tower which made for a pleasing panoramic composition.


After the storm at Devils Tower


An additional blessing on this trip was  a chance meeting in the field with fellow landscape photographer Bret Edge who truly is one of the nicest and most gracious photographers I’ve ever talked with, along with being a great shooter and writer. I consider Bret a new friend and am looking forward to visiting his gallery this fall in the awesome town of Moab, Utah. You can view Bret’s blog at Scroll down a bit and check out his 2015 Utah calendar – if you love the Southwest like I do it’s a must purchase.

As I’ve pondered this fantastic place of Devils Tower, and considered further the film that inspired me and how impactful Dreyfuss’ performance was, I realize there has been much of my life marked by my own frenzied obsession. Obsession with self, obsession with performance, obsession with being accepted. A desperate obsession.

But something is changing in me. Or more aptly, Someone is changing me. No, I definitely have not arrived, and never will in this brief life on earth, and I most certainly have many days of struggle against an inward wandering. But I can’t help smiling and welling up with joyful tears as I see the journey God has me on, of a life increasingly marked by an overriding passion for His glory, His excellence, His beauty, His power. To delight in all that He is and in all of His works, is becoming my true joy. He is graciously making me into a new man obsessed.

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