Wednesday, October 19

 The Grand Canyon is deservedly one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. It looks almost as if a pair of giant hands rent the earth apart leaving behind this enormous gash to which some five million visitors come each year to witness its majesty.

I woke up early Wednesday morning (still on Michigan time) and stepped outside for some sunrise photos. In the first picture you can see the Bright Angel Trail heading down to the Phantom Ranch.

The vistas are amazing in every direction and I was only witnessing one section of the chasm between two points. 

While I was out a cow elk wandered by, munching on the available browse. She seemed completely unconcerned with my presence, and the several others out for the sunrise, and enjoyed her breakfast stroll through the village.

Grand Canyon Village is a small town with year round residents, mostly the staff serving the visitors and Park Service employees. They have their own school including a high school which graduates about fifteen students each year.

Looking west along the rim sits the Lookout studio. It was designed by architect Mary Coulter as a place for visitors to photograph the canyon.

The Hopi House was another Coulter design, modeled after Hopi pueblos. Tourists can buy American Indian arts and crafts.

At 9:00am we boarded a Desert View tour bus to visit the eastern reaches of the Canyon. It took us along SR 64, stopping a various overlooks and ending at Navajo point and the Desert View Watchtower. This is where the Colorado River enters the Grand Canyon and the canyon itself begins to open up. 

Susie took her Stetson, first chance she's had to wear it.

The watchtower at Navajo Point was another Coulter project. It was conceived to resemble other towers built by the Navajos in the desert. The are was under construction so photography was constrained.

One of the juniper trees that populated the landscape

Mary Coulter used Native American petroglyphs in the walls

One of the ceremonial shields used during the dedication in 1932

The views from Navajo Point spilled out over the desert to the east.

You can see the Colorado River coming into the Canyon from the east

On the way back we made a stop to see "the duck on a rock."

We poked around the rim during the afternoon then took a shuttle out to Mohave Point for the sunset. Again, the afterglow was amazing.

The setting sun just kisses the peaks in the Canyon.

And then back to the lodge for another night's rest.

Visiting the Grand Canyon

At 3:00am on October 18th, Susie and I left for the airport on the first leg of our "bucket list" trip to the Grand Canyon. We left DTW for DFW to catch a commuter to Flagstaff, AZ. Arriving around noon, we picked up our rental car and began the three hour trek north to our destination, the El Tovar Lodge on the trim of the Canyon.

Check-in was easy and after quickly unpacking our bags, we stepped out the back door for our first view. 

Breathtaking is too small a word to describe the expanse. The Canyon is 18 miles wide at this point and a mile deep. 

A two dimensional image can never hope to capture the depth and the reach, but that didn't stop us from trying. We soon began to see some of the challenges of capturing digital images of the place.

One of the biggest difficulties is overcoming the haze that fills the canyon. The winds pick up dust that creates something like a thin smog. It was hard to get crisp images. Thankfully, Photoshop has a dehaze filter that helps but the freshest image would have to be captured immediately after a rainstorm. 

The South Rim of the Canyon is serviced by free shuttles that stop every fifteen  minutes and offer rides to the South Rim Village, the Market and the Visitor center. They also have a route that provides the only motorized transportation to viewpoints west of the village. 

Tuesday evening, we grabbed one of those shuttles which took us to Maricopa Point for the sunset. Since the skies were clear, the sunset itself was nothing spectacular. But the afterglow was amazing!

While I was taking pictures, Susie was spellbound and soaked up the views. She took some images with her iPhone but mostly absorbed the memories. The colors were amazing and changing. When darkness closed in, we caught the return shuttle to the Village and then made the trek along the rim to our room. Since we were three hours later than GC (Grand Canyon) time (they remain on Mountain Standard Time), we turned in around 8:30pm (11:30pm our time) and fell instantly asleep. 

We had nothing planned for the next morning because we knew we would need to catch up. Tuesday had been a long day.

A Reflection on 75 Years

October 26, 2021

I took this photograph of a farm lane on a memorable morning, October 15, 2014. The fall colors had peaked and dense fog had created a magically soft dreamscape. It was a perfect morning for photography and I stayed out, driving rural roads northwest of Concord and taking pictures until the sun finally began to burn through.

This is one of about two dozen images I saved from that morning, and this one remains my favorite. It’s also one of the few images which suggests a title. For me, it’s what retirement looks like. The “golden years” stretch out immediately in front of us with hopeful prospects, but like the lane in the picture, it dissolves into the mists of an uncertain future. 

I’m seven years further down that lane since making that image, and it’s my birthday—my seventy-fifth birthday. On this day I can look back on three-quarters of a century. 

In A Prayer of Moses, The Man of God, Moses wrote: “The years of our lives are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty, yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone and we fly away” (Psalm 90:10). 

I’m halfway between Moses' average span “by reason of strength.” I did my usual fifty push-ups this morning. I don’t run but I walk vigorously almost every day. By God’s mercy I have enjoyed better health than either my father or my grandfather.

At the same time I am aware of the toll the years have taken. I’m missing body parts, and have artificial eye lenses after cataract surgery. I’ve got bridges and implants to replace missing teeth. I wear tri-focals and hearing aids. My strength is there, but my stamina is reduced. I sense some of the diminishing of mental sharpness that leads regularly to what we euphemistically call “senior moments.” And every day I take a handful of pills to manage various ailments. Truly “…their span is but toil and trouble." 

"So," Moses adds, "teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

A goodly part of that wisdom is learning to rely increasingly on the infinite mercies and grace of God. Aging has given me a lingering opportunity to repent of old sins, brushed aside in their moment but remembered; perhaps brought to mind by God’s Holy Spirit. Repentance and confession have become somewhat habitual in these years. I have a deeper appreciation for the cross of Jesus Christ, who not only rescued me from past failures but has continued in steadfast love and faithfulness toward me throughout my awkward journey of faith. As the contemporary hymn confesses, "Our sins they are many, his mercy is more!" 

Amen.

Psalm 71 is a Psalm for old age. It’s composer is anonymous but I have identified with him for over thirty years. He writes:

“My mouth is filled with your praise, and with your glory all the day. Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent” (Psalm 71:8-9 ESV). 

Again, Amen!

“…I will hope continually and will praise you yet more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge. With the mighty deeds of the Lord GOD I will come; I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone. 

O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come. 

Your righteousness, O God, reaches the high heavens. You who have done great things, O God, who is like you? You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again; from the depths of the earth you will bring me up again” (Psalm 71:14-20 ESV).

God called me to himself when still a youth (of nineteen). He has taught me and given me the privilege of “proclaiming his wondrous deeds” in three full time ministries and two interim ministries. I still seek opportunities to “proclaim his might to another generation.”

The Psalmist also speaks of that living hope believers share: “…from the depths of the earth you will bring me up again.” 

I have buried a granddaughter, both of my parents and a wife. I know something of “many troubles and calamities.” Hope is precious. Turning seventy-five is a good time to stoke the fires of hope, to keep them burning brightly.

God has been good to me. I have two fine sons who excel in their careers and personal lives, and who walk with God. They have both married remarkable women who also follow Jesus. I have five incredible grandchildren whom I love more than life itself. 

And God has given me Susie, “the wife of my old age,” as I teasingly remind her. I am so fortunate to love again and to be loved by such a lovely and godly woman.

God has indeed been good to me. 

King David wrote: “In your book were written, every one of them, all the days that were formed for me when as yet there was none of them” (Psalm 139:16).

Only God knows the expiration date on my birth certificate. On this day it is enough to celebrate his goodness to me over my past threescore and fifteen. It’s a good day.

A Meditation

Before the emergence of the Corona Virus pandemic, America seemed to be doing well. Unemployment was at record lows, and the stock Market was enjoying record highs. At the State of the Union our President could boast of the strongest economy in our history. We still had systemic issues—no nation is ever completely free of problems. But we had reason for optimism.

And then came the Corona Virus. State governors responded to White House guidelines and declared states of emergency. Hospitals were overwhelmed and scrambled for scarce supplies, store shelves emptied, businesses closed in compliance, and we sheltered at home, hoping to slow the spread of a pestilence.

It’s been a rough ride and we’re not over it yet.

But for all our anxieties about what’s going on, I wonder if we know what’s going on—what God’s about in all this.

I’m not a prophet, nor have I received any revelation from God. The secret things belong to the Lord our God, Moses said. But the things revealed are for us. And God has revealed words that do give us some indication of how we might reflect on some of what God may be doing.

I have been impressed by how quickly America went from prosperity to fears of a severe economic depression. How a mighty aircraft carrier, proud naval symbol of American’s power and reach, could be rendered virtually inoperable. How all the kings horses and all the kings men are still scrambling to find answers to this world-wide crisis.

A couple of thoughts come to mind. First from the wisdom literature of the Bible, Solomon wrote: “Consider the work of God: who can make straight what he has made crooked? In the day of prosperity be joyful, and in the day of adversity consider: God has made the one as well as the other, so that man may not find out anything that will be after him” (Ecclesiastes 7:13-14 ESV).

We rightly think of this in terms of our individual lives. It is God’s work to keep us off balance; to remind us of our vulnerability. We are not quite the “masters of our fates” we imagine ourselves to be. We are foolish to think we have life all figured out. With one little nudge so much of what we consider certain is undone.

The same is true of nations. Within weeks all of our American assumptions about how life is going to play out have been turned on their heads. Graduates won’t. Job security isn’t. Holiday celebrations canceled. The expected long life of otherwise healthy people cut short.

I’m not saying this pandemic is God’s judgement on America. But we can affirm the wisdom of acknowledging our utter dependence upon our faithful Creator.

And then this:

“The Lord looks down from heaven; he sees all the children of man;
   from where he sits enthroned he looks out on all the inhabitants of the earth,
   he who fashions the hearts of them all and observes all their deeds.
The king is not saved by his great army; a warrior is not delivered by his great strength.
The war horse is a false hope for salvation, and by its great might it cannot rescue.
Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love,
   that he may deliver their soul from death and keep them alive in famine.
Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and our shield.
For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name.
Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you” (Psalm 33:13-22 ESV).

Military and economic power make poor saviors. God is sovereign in the affairs of men and women. He keeps his eye on those who fear him, who take him seriously, whose hope is in his steadfast love.

The believing Christian’s hope in Jesus Christ is that our loving heavenly Father will deliver our soul from death, even if we die. The grace and mercy of our Savior Jesus Christ assures us that he is indeed: “…the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in [him], though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in [Jesus] shall never die. (John 11:25-26 ESV).

So with the Psalmist we conclude that we will wait for the Lord. We will gladden our hearts as we repose our souls in his holy name. And we will fix our hope, whatever comes, on his steadfast, unfailing love.

On Humility:

Jesus rightly identified love for God and people as owning first place among all the commandments of God. These two irreducibly summarize everything else God desires of us. All the other commandments and exhortations of Scripture simply describe for us what it means to to love God and to love people.

Deeply embedded in the command to love is one extraordinary virtue without which love is not possible. Love is essentially other-centered. It is fulfilled in service: service to God and others. It seeks the best for others and so puts others sacrificially before the self. This is the kind of love God has for us; the love Jesus showed us when he went to the cross to provide pardon and reconciliation for alienated rebels like us.

The virtue which makes that kind of love possible is humility. Tim Keller has observed that humility is not thinking less of ourselves, but thinking of ourselves less. The difference is subtle but significant. Humility is not some form of self deprecation. It doesn’t focus on the self much at all. But like love, humility makes others more.

A quick survey of the New Testament underscores just how big a deal this is:

• “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly [humble] in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:29 ESV).
• “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 14:11 ESV).
• “Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight” (Romans 12:16 ESV).
• “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves” (Philippians 2:3 ESV).
• “Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness [gentleness], and patience…” (Colossians 3:12 ESV).
• “Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble’” (1 Peter 5:5 ESV).
• “But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, ‘God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble’ Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you” (James 4:6-10 ESV).

Humility has emerged in my own spiritual journey as a deeply longed-for soul imperative. I have been prodded to this journey largely by my own need for grace. As Peter and James both remind us, “God resists the proud [ranges himself in battle against] but gives grace [only] to the humble.” (They are quoting from the Septuagint translation of Proverbs 3:34.)

Since I constantly stand in need of grace it became indispensable to me that I figure out what true humility is and how to go about shaping it in my heart.

A second push came from God locking my attention onto Colossians 3:12 where we are exhorted to put on—clothe ourselves—with “compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.” As I meditated on this passage, humility emerged as the central virtue, the hub around which the others revolved. Only humility could make me kind and gentle. And kindness would produce compassion; gentleness would produce patience.

It continues to be a journey of grace but one in which God is faithfully working out what he started in me some fifty-three years ago.

This week I stumbled across something which I believe may well help me take further on this pilgrimage. Mark Galli is the retiring Editor in Chief for Christianity Today Magazine. I follow his blog (The Galli Report) not because I agree with everything he writes, but because he so often speaks about issues that resonate in my own soul.

Writing about the recent storm caused by his stand on a moral issue, he added “The guiding light for me in any controversy I find myself in is the Litany of Humility. I pray it regularly precisely because I fall so short of its ideals.”

Intrigued, I followed his link to this document:

A Litany of Humility

“Jesus! Meek and humble of heart, Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being loved, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being extolled, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being honored, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being preferred to others, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being humiliated, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being despised, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of suffering rebukes, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being calumniated, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being forgotten, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being ridiculed, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being wronged, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being suspected, Deliver me, Jesus.
That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be esteemed more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be praised and I unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be preferred to me in everything, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. Amen.”
– Attributed to Rafael Cardinal Merry Del Val, by Charles Belmonten (Handbook of Prayers, Studium Theologiae Foundation, Manila, 1986).

Baptists are late discovering the riches of our more liturgical brothers and sisters. I find this litany of prayer helpful. It expresses the heart of one who has thought deeply about what it means to be so grounded in God’s love that one desires to “think of one’s self less.” So for a time, at least, I’m incorporating this into my prayers. It is a good reminder of the many still unhumbled parts of my own sinful self that need to bow before my King.

When I began taking pictures I wanted to shoot color. Black and white didn't interest and besides, I could buy and process color slide film for much less than it cost to buy and process prints.  

With the advent of digital my delight in color pictures only intensified. I especially enjoyed the challenge of processing camera RAW files in Photoshop, trying to produce a final image that was as close to perfect as possible. Perfection is always ephemeral challenge, always a moving target and I remain my own worst critic, but I thoroughly enjoy the pursuit.

Recently I have begun to explore the unique challenges and advantages of black and white. Professional photographers point out that color sometimes gets in the way of a good picture or is distracting. Skin tones can be better rendered in black and white. If you want a vintage look, monochrome is your best bet. Black and white emphasizes structure, texture and form. 

A short while ago I joined a Facebook group that only posts black and white images. It's a great way to see the work of others and learn from their craft. These are some of the images I have posted. Many of them have appeared on my own Facebook page. Not all of them in black and white. 

An old factory on East Michigan  Ave. This is also an HDR image.

And abandoned Dodge pickup

 The next two were taken at the tall ships festival in Bay City a few years ago. The sepia treatment seems to fit the antique nature of these sailing vessels.

This reenactor portrayed an American Indian at a Rendezvous.

Vintage hood ornament at the Gilmore Auto Museum

Vintage aircraft are colorful in their own right but black and white seems to fit. A New Standard bi-plane offering rides at the Air Zoo in Kalamazoo

The nose and inboard engines of a B-17 bomber

Port side waist gunner on a B-17

The following images emphasize structure and form.

A gray morning in an autumn woods. Had to go monochrome.

Grain silo complex out Parma way

I've processed this image in both color and black and white and like both. Each treatment bring out different aspects of the photo.  Taken near Hocking Hills in Ohio

Night scene at Eaton Rapids Airstream event

Long exposure for smooth water and clouds. 

Another retired pick-up -- this one on a farm on the Camus Prairie in Idaho.

The color in the woods behind this cat actually gets in the way of the image.

Again, black and white emphasizes the form and structure of this milkweed pod.

I haven't used this blog for a spell but may fire it up again. It's mostly been about photography but expect to see some posts about other thoughts as well.