We were visiting a good friend in Albuquerque awhile back and were doing some touristy things when I saw an image I wanted to make. Given that I didn’t have my Nikon with me, I had to use my phone – which, frankly, has a pretty decent camera, but I was trying to go for a wider shot than I could get with it.
It was a church in Old Albuquerque, “The Church of San Felipe de Neri“. It was Monday, the area was quiet – and I saw the white crosses on the church, and saw the wall and gate surrounding it, and thought I could try to make an image that had the archway the gate was in framing the church and the sky. To do that, I’d have to get down on my hands and knees and get the camera as low as I could get it, so I’d be looking up and be able to contrast the crosses on the church with the deeply blue Albuquerque sky.
I thought about it – and then got down on the sidewalk with my phone, slowly skootching forward like a Marine, on elbows and hips, constantly looking all over the place, to make sure I wasn’t going to crawl into anything, but also keeping my eyes on the crosses, because of that archway I was trying to frame them in.
I came close, but wasn’t quite ready to take the photo when a gentleman walked up and saw I was on the ground. He immediately wanted to help me up, as he thought I had fallen. I tried to explain that I was fine, but he insisted on helping me up. My trying to convince him that I was on the ground on purpose simply didn’t compute for him, so I took his hand, and tried to get up, slowly and carefully.
This would have been okay, had I not injured my knee several years ago, and in the process of letting him help me get up, it dislocated (which was a touch on the painful side), stretched a tendon in the back, and then popped back into place (which was also a touch on the painful side).
I thanked him to be polite, chatted with him a bit, and walked back and forth just a little, gently testing my knee to make sure everything was okay. It was, relatively speaking, and we parted, kindly, as he and his grandson went their way and I went mine – and he had no idea what lesson he’d just taught me.
See, I was on my own journey to that cross, and I was going at the speed that was right for me, and it was working.
The fellow, I don’t remember his name, insisted on ‘helping’ me, and it got me thinking…
See, I wasn’t ready for his help.
In fact, because of his help, I re-injured my knee as I was getting up.
But the journey to the cross was my own to make. Not his.
And the journey to the cross had obstacles for me that he couldn’t see.
And he had no way of knowing that by “helping” me, he actually hurt me, a pain that has since healed, but took several weeks to do so.
And it makes me think of the times we see someone we think needs help.
Do we provide them that? The help?
Do we listen to them to make sure that the help they need is the help we’re giving them?
Or do we try to help folks in ways that only make sense to us?
I thought about that a lot, and as I was going through my images, and realized the image that I’d wanted to take was not there. I never did take it the way I wanted to.
In fact, here’s the first attempt at it – one I took standing up, a panorama – and you can see that the tops of the steeples are cut off (which is why I was down on the ground in the first place)
And it got me thinking again.
Because the fellow helped me, on his time, not on mine, things didn’t work out the way I wanted, the way I’d planned.
I walked around a little more, gently shaking and testing my leg while taking a few more photos, finally ending up on the right side of the above shot with this one:
And it’s there that I saw the beginnings of the image I really liked.
And I walked up, and framed it, and then made an image that I’m quite happy with, this one below:
I like it.
I really do.
It reminds me of how beautiful things can be if you let them happen in their own time.
So even though I didn’t get the image I wanted, I did get one I liked, and I wouldn’t have done that had I not wandered off to the right to do it.
Which I wouldn’t have done had I not needed to shake off the pain in my knee.
Which wouldn’t have happened if…
…it makes me ponder things even more.
What would have happened if the gentleman hadn’t insisted on helping me up?
Would I have gotten a shot I’m as happy with as I am with this one?
Or would I have been satisfied with some variation of that first shot up there?
I honestly don’t know.
Sometimes bad, painful stuff happens that turns out well in the end.
I know God works all sorts of strange things into my life – into our lives – and I’m never sure when the story is actually finished.
Doesn’t make the painful parts hurt any less, not by a long shot, but as I look at the picture above, I don’t wince at the pain in my knee…
I smile at the image I was able to capture because of it.