Focus
Being a photographer has taught me a lot about focus. It tells you where to look and where to concentrate. It tells you what is important. Lack of focus brings softness, and often reveals that something is unimportant.
While my two dear characters are calling out to me, even as I write this, from my bedside table (inside the notebook where they lie) I am not focused on them or on my senior project.
Nor am I concerned about the reader's theater script for "The Light Princess" by George MacDonald, which I agreed to write over the summer. I haven't given it a thought.
I've been far more focused on things I have no control over, like meeting someone to spend the rest of my life with and planning my future.
I haven't allowed my faith to fall by the wayside this summer, however, which is likely why I am writing this post.
Conviction.
I have to say, it's a lot easier to talk and think about things that really are not within my realm of influence. Then, if it doesn't work out for some reason, it's not my fault. Well, here we are ladies and gentlemen: it's not working out the way I would like it to, and it's not my fault.
However.
However, there are things to do. What was I supposed to do this summer? Write a first draft of my senior project, adapt the script for "The Light Princess" and build community, trying to get involved in this church I have committed to.
Too many cameras these days have automatic focus. I wish that was true in life. But instead, I'll just turn my lens a little and bring the blur into sharp relief.