Which shadows you will see, which lights patches will illuminate the page.
Even with a digital camera, where I can adjust, change settings, increase colour and light, I still don't know exactly what will happen when I press the shutter. Sometimes I like it, sometimes I don't.
I'd love to do real, old school dark room photography. To take off with a camera with limited exposures, capture the moment and then watch quietly, under red light, in anticipation of the picture.
One of my favourite photographs is one I found in an old box of photography kit from my uncle. It's a much younger photograph of my grandparents, as the shutter went off they were both laughing, my granny tilting back her head & enjoying the moment. It's a rare photograph of my grandpa too - not that he doesn't ever smile, but to see him laughing like that is not something that often happens. In some ways this is not a good photograph, my granny's eyes are shut, my grandpa was scratching his face. If you were looking for a studio-perfect family portrait, this isn't it. But it is so much better. And nobody could have known how beautifully it would have turned out unless they had taken the negative into the dark room and begun the laborious process of development.
I often find that my favourite photographs seem like the mistakes. The blurry ones, the wonky ones, that one that's slightly out of focus, or the composition was wrong and I got a bit of extra scenery. Or the camera settings were wrong, the colour was too high, not high enough...
Day to day it's so easy to get caught up in the times when I make mistakes, to berate myself for doing one thing, or not doing it. I get cross when I forget something, frustrated when I try to explain myself and noone understands, sad when things just don't turn out right. I despair when I can't pray, I lose hope when there's noone to turn to. I know that I should trust in my Saviour, but some days, it just seems too bleak, too impossible. Much like developing a photograph, I don't know how this living will turn out. I start to think, is it even worth the hassle? What's the point? Why am I doing this?
But who would go to the trouble of taking a photograph, to then ignore the film and refuse to develop it? The process might be long, it might be dark, but it is the end result that is worth it. Under red light the photo becomes clear, the picture is perfect. Under red blood, we become clear, we become perfect - redeemed in his sight. In photography, even the mistakes can be beautiful. In life, God works all things for the good of those who trust him. Even the bad, messy, black bits. He is the ultimate photographer, the one who will labour intensely for hours to develop a beautiful, beautiful image. He will not leave the process halfway through, or discard a page because it might not turn out right. He lovingly restores all things. I can be confident that my photograph, his plan for me, will turn out alright - more than alright - perfect.
