Really God? I cried, limping through the backyard gate with my basket of cameras in one hand and a folding stool in the other.
My knees and feet and hands and wrists less painful and swollen than they'd been in days, but a stabbing pain in my right hip made every step feel like it would be my last.
I'm going on a canyon photography tour in Arizona, Emily's friend told us earlier in the week and I imagined the amazing photo ops that trip will offer.
How can I be a psalmist with a camera, Lord, when I can't even get out of my backyard?
And I laughed because it's something I keep forgetting.
It's never been about what I can do, but what God can do with, for, around, and through me.
{Photos: in my Pollywog Creek backyard}
It's never been about what I can do, but what God can do with, for, around, and through me.
{Photos: in my Pollywog Creek backyard}
