When I was about 8 years old, my school held a pretzel sale contest with the first prize being a camera. I wanted that camera so badly as my family didn’t own any, but, despite my best efforts, I did not win. Feeling my disappointment, my Uncle Jimmy dressed in the Santa Claus suit he wore when he visited Children’s Hospital every Christmas, and surprised me —with a gift — in November! It was an Ansco reflex camera, complete with case, film and flash bulbs. But it was Uncle Jimmy’s ever-giving spirit, his generosity, and his love which far transcended the value of that camera.That’s what truly mattered, not the camera itself. The memory is etched deeper still because the photos I took of Uncle Jimmy that Christmas with his gift were the last ever taken of him, as he passed on suddenly just a few months later.

Photos spark our memories. The significant ones recall things that we have seen or moments we have spent with people we love. They record the milestones in our lives and the glory of God’s Creation. They help us to remember how we felt, the emotions we shared and experienced at the time they were taken. Memories fade and so I believe that journaling — a few lines telling where you were, whom you were with, and how you felt — is as important as the photograph itself.

I was blessed to be counted among the 50 pilgrims who just visited The Holy Land. I took more than 1000 photos — as I’m sure many of us did. In the age of digital photography and the ever handy iPhone, it is quite easy to do that. During the last week, I began the hard part of culling them down, editing them, labeling them…pondering them.

The journey through Israel is not just a travelogue…it is also a spiritual journey, where you see, touch and feel the Bible come to life. Many places evoke deep feelings.

Friends and neighbors have been asking what location I enjoyed most.  In many cases, ‘enjoy’ doesn’t capture the emotion or impact. There are so many, but one stands out. The Bible does not even mention this room. The site? Yes. The pit beneath it? No. It is inferred between the concluding verses of Matthew 26 and the first verses of Matthew 27.  My photos are of a hole in the ceiling of this pit. Also one of the floor and the crude steps which would’ve existed at the time. But words? No, I could never put into words what I felt there.  The pain, the grace, the gratitude, the abandonment, the love. But as I looked up from my thoughts, my glance fell on a young man kneeling at the top of the steps, his body language capturing what I felt. No words ever will be necessary, as this private photo will always say it all.

Photos are important, but the meaning behind a snapshot often can be so much more. I have used photos and the moments they capture to help the elderly, people with dementia, and children who lost their parents during 9/11.

Capture the laughter, the love, and the blessings of each and every moment. And remember to give Him thanks, because, even in that dark, cold pit, He loved us so much that He was willing to sacrifice Himself for our salvation.

Judy Kagle Ferguson