Photography and Faith

When I first picked up a camera, I thought I was just learning how to take pictures. I didn’t realize I was also learning how to see.

Faith has a funny way of showing up in the smallest things in moments of stillness, in the light breaking through clouds, in the way time seems to slow when something beautiful catches your eye. Photography taught me that.

There are days when I plan everything perfectly the location, the lighting, the timing and yet, something unexpected always happens. The sun hides, the wind picks up, someone’s shy smile turns into laughter. And somehow, it’s always better than what I planned. That’s faith, learning to let go, to trust that even when things don’t go my way, something good is still being created.

Through my lens, I’ve learned that light always finds a way. Even in the darkest corners, it seeps in soft, quiet, redeeming. Just like God’s presence. Sometimes you have to adjust your focus, step back, and look again to see it but it’s always there.

Photography has also taught me patience. Waiting for the right light, the right moment, the right feeling it’s a lot like waiting on God. You can’t rush it. You can prepare, you can show up, but at the end of the day, you have to trust the process and believe something beautiful is coming.

Over time, I’ve come to realize that this isn’t just something I do; it’s something I’m called to. The more I create, the more I feel God’s hand in it. He gave me eyes to see beauty in the ordinary and a heart that longs to show people the light that already lives within them. This is where I feel most aligned with Him,behind the lens, capturing the stories He’s writing in others’ lives.

I’ve learned that creativity and faith walk hand in hand. Both ask you to see beyond what’s visible to believe that what’s forming in the unseen will one day come to life. Every time I click the shutter, I’m reminded that we are all still works in progress, and that even unfinished moments can be breathtaking when viewed with grace.

There’s a sacredness to the in-between the pause before laughter, the tear before a smile, the quiet before the light shifts. Those are the moments that feel like prayer to me. Not loud or perfect, but real. Honest. Full of heart.

Every time I lift my camera, I’m reminded that I’m not just capturing light I’m witnessing it. And to me, that’s what faith really is: believing that even when you can’t see the full picture, something beautiful is being formed behind the scenes.

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Called Out of the Quiet: When He Found Me in the Chaos