Dan Elliott's Blog

Flip the Channel

2011-11-21T05:40:00.000-06:00

For those of you who weren't already aware, my family and I are living and working in Haiti from September through May this year.
We'll be coming back to the states to shoot next Summer to try to supplement income to come back down.
You can flip the channel and follow our other blog in Haiti at
http://imakeadreaminhaiti.blogspot.com

The Oasis

2011-08-29T08:57:00.002-05:00

Imagine being out in the middle of a desert. The sun is high in the sky, unrelenting. The sand beneath your sandals almost smolders, and the heat from the ground lofts up to your nostrils. You're beyond dry, you're parched. Your throat becomes a heated kiln. It is like the earth when it forms into the endless cracks of broken pottery, opening, straining for any drop of moisture. The dampness of saliva would be nice, but even the pebble you've placed under your tongue no longer fools the body. There's just nothing left, and you're withering away from the face of the Earth. Is this your final hour?

Off in the distance, through the ripples of heat you see something. A hint of color, something waving? Is it real? Is it another mirage taunting your soul? Closer you walk, not really believing, no hope in your steps.

The trail behind you is not the walk of a man so much as the slither of a snake. Your toes drag with each movement.

But then the wind changes and there is the wisp of a scent that drifts across your nose. Your body realizes it even before your drowsy thoughts can awaken, and then comes the exclamation! Water?

That's the smell of WATER!

A new drive takes over. Your feet begin to leave the earth with a bounce. Your hopes are rekindled and the new vision before you almost carries you on wings. In fact, almost nothing in this world could stop you now. You recognize the palms and can even see the tall grasses. You are driven.

"I am not finished!" you scream to your spirit!

To the waters edge you fall, and it isn't enough. Your whole body, as if by pure impulse, pushes you in. It's cold! It's pure and fresh and life-giving. Some sort of artesian well, broken from the bowels of the deep dark canyons of bedrock below, bubbling up at the same rate as the joy renewing in your heart.

Your thoughts become your own again. Clarity returns. You sit beneath the shade of the Palm. Your canteens are filled and your lips, once again moist and elastic. You smile, even laugh at how close you came to Death's door. Your voice is raised to Heaven as you thank God for your good fortune.....but then....

What's that? Out in the ripples. A speck, just a rock....no, it's moving. Slowly, but yes, it's certainly moving. Whatever it is, it's still alive. It doesn't have your fortune though. It's not moving towards this dreamy place. It's moving to the side.

Doesn't it see this palm? Does it see and not believe?

"Life," you whisper beneath your breath, still not sure. "There is life here you foolish beast."

Then the heat relents for just a moment, and you make out the figure of a woman.

Yes, no doubt a woman!

You see her hair tossing about. Her frame in full view. You can even see her dragging steps, familiar in your mind to your own not long ago. To your feet you pounce as air fills your lungs!

Your arms waving frantically you jump into the air, and from the very core of your soul comes your scream,

"WATER!"

"HEY!"

"WATER!"

"THIS WAY!"

"THERE IS, THERE IS WATER HERE! THIS WAY!"

The figure, just about to cross the horizon of the next sand dune, seems not to hear. Your voice must not be cutting through this heat. You run towards her, gambling in your mind, 'how far will I chase her, will I lose sight of this place, will I find it again if I run all the way to her?', and just before she takes the last step out of your sight, you scream with all you've got,

"WATER! LIFE-GIVING WATER!"

The winds shift, just for a moment, and your message rides the waves. Faintly, she stops in her tracks. She turns and peers through the hot sun. There is an eternity that passes, as her drifting thoughts push through. Are you real? Could it be? Is it worth it to change course? You catch your breath and hold it.... and finally she turns your direction.

YES! YES! YES!

SALVATION!

That, my friends, is this verse to me, written from a man in prison, about to die for his love of Christ, to another, younger and more timid brother in the faith. He was just a beggar, telling another beggar where to find food, once a lost and hopeless soul who'd had the fortune of finding the Oasis:

"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but that of power, love and self-discipline. So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord, or ashamed of me his prisoner. But join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God, who has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time..." 2 Tim 1 ~ Paul

This message is life-giving. We should never be afraid to shout it from the rooftops, let alone the basement. May we have the confidence to venture out from the shade of the Palm for the sake of another. May we all have the spirit of search-and-rescue. May we approach them with child-like understanding. May we share. Anything less would be criminal.

Imagine being out in the middle of a desert. The sun is high in the sky, unrelenting. The sand beneath your sandals almost smolders, and the heat from the ground lofts up to your nostrils. You're beyond dry, your parched. Your throat becomes a heated kiln, as the earth when it forms into the endless cracks like broken pottery, opening, straining for any drop of moisture. The dampness of saliva would be nice, but even the pebble you've placed under your tongue no longer fools the body. There's just nothing left, and your are withering away from the face of the Earth. Is this your final hour?

The trail behind you is not the walk of a man so much as the slither of a snake. Your toes drag with each movement.

But then the wind changes and there is the wisp of a scent that drifts across your nose. Your body realizes it even before your drowsy thoughts can awaken, and then comes the exclamation! Water?

That's the smell of WATER!

"I am not finished!" you scream to your spirit!

Doesn't it see this palm? Does it see and not believe?

"Life," you whisper beneath your breath, still not sure. "There is life here you foolish beast."

Then the heat relents for just a moment, and you make out the figure of a woman.

Yes, no doubt a woman!

You see her hair tossing about. Her frame in full view. You can even see her dragging steps, familiar in your mind to your own not long ago. To your feet you pounce as air fills your lungs!

Your arms waving frantically you jump into the air, and from the very core of your soul comes your scream,

"WATER!"

"HEY!"

"WATER!"

"THIS WAY!"

"THERE IS, THERE IS WATER HERE! THIS WAY!"

"WATER! LIFE-GIVING WATER!"

YES! YES! YES!

SALVATION!

Jeff & Emily's Wedding

2011-08-28T08:16:00.000-05:00

Dan & Andrea

2011-08-27T15:50:00.000-05:00

Lee and Jenna

2011-08-26T08:55:00.000-05:00

Haley Outdoors

2011-08-24T09:50:00.000-05:00

Jessica & Van's Wedding

2011-08-19T13:24:00.000-05:00

Finished for the Year

2011-08-16T18:47:00.001-05:00

Well, it's official.
We've sold our home and our studio as of 3 pm today.
In another month I'll be in Haiti, and Lord willing my family will follow me down soon as I can find us a place to live.
Anyone that needs to reach us can still call our studio number, 605,582-8259, or email dan@danelliottphotography.com
We'll check in from time to time from Haiti.
Otherwise we'll be back by the end of May 2012, to resume our photography and provide enough income each Summer to return to Haiti every Fall, until God says we're finished.
Blessings to all, and many thanks to everyone who helped to support our family through the years by allowing us the privilege to take your pictures and capture your special moments.
We'll be trying to update a blog through a website we've setup at www.biblesforhaiti.org

Until Christ has come our work is undone,

The Elliott Family

Erin & Joel's Wedding

2011-08-06T21:00:00.000-05:00

Moving Sale To Finish in July

2011-07-26T10:51:00.001-05:00

We're selling just about everything folks. Moving out of our studio in a couple of weeks, so everything must go.
We'll be back in the Summers to shoot weddings and photo sessions, but the rest of the year we'll be in Haiti.
Tons of items for Sale:

Studio equipment - tripods, lenses, camera bags, flash and more
Music equipment - electric piano, guitars, microphones, amps, and more
Furniture - dresser, armoir, chairs, footstools and more.
Riding Lawn Mower, Push mower, weedeater and more
outdoor tool and hose containers
Dog Igloo
Tables - custom metal, wood kitchen table, picnic table/umbrella, glass patio table
Props - alot of unique ideas for backgrounds, textures, etc.
Fabrics - maternity, kids, textures,
Beds
Tools - Chop Saw, Cordless Drill, tool chests and more
Camping Gear - lanterns, fishing, coolers, and more
Snowsport Snow Plow
ATV jack
Washer/Dryer, frontload
Antique Barn Wood
Antique Barn Doors
Antique Wagon Wheels
Printers/Monitors
Toys
Vehicle Rear Carrier
You name it.

Whatever it Takes

2011-07-11T08:23:00.001-05:00

A friend of mine asked me to put a song together with clips from Passion of the Christ for a sermon he would give.

It was a song by Pillar, a very hard-edged, blood-curdling kind of sound, and not at all the kind of music I'd normally lend my ear to. I could already hear my dad saying, "Son, that is not music, that's just noise."

But it was a way of serving Him, and so I accepted the challenge of putting the torture and sacrifice of my Savior in the company of music that if I heard it on the radio, I couldn't flip the dial quick enough.

What I realized as I waded into the work was that there would be no better way to describe the resolve of what Jesus chose to do, the pain He accepted on our behalf. It was not a pretty song. There was nothing harmonic about what He did for us. It was a split from anything right in this world. The terrorism that He and those around Him experienced was beyond sanity as they entered into the realm of a crazed mob, frothing at the mouth for the ultimate destruction of His life... and this song told that story. It put to music the raw reality of anguish, the resolve, the harshness, the barbaric chords of what Christ endured for us.

This, my friends, is what I feel we should be shouting from the rooftops, instead of rationalizing a comfortable way of life. Anything we do in His service, whether it makes sense in the eyes of man or not, right down to selling everything we own and moving to a foreign land to share His story... it's worth it.

He is worth it. Watch this video, and ask yourself if you'd rather listen to a lullaby:

Music: Pillar. Whatever it Takes

Video: Passion of the Christ

Old Friend For Sale

2011-07-06T12:38:00.003-05:00

Everything is now viewed through this lense: how many tickets to Haiti will that buy? So, just sold my last video camera. Anyone in the market for a keyboard? Weighted keys, plays great. Just not going to need this in Haiti, and no point storing it. Gonna miss my old friend.

$1200 or best offer.

Sweets

2011-07-01T23:25:00.004-05:00

Happy Birthday Sweets!

Haley

2011-06-28T12:24:00.000-05:00

The Race

2011-06-19T15:53:00.006-05:00

My little girl is a horse fanatic, so much so that she even speaks their language. She is a professional whinny-er. Horses, she says, do not say "nay." So, while we were on vacation we thought she'd really like it if we took her to the horse races. She made sure to bring her cowgirl hat. We tried to tell her it's not exactly a rodeo. A little different crowd at these kinds of things, but she didn't care.
In her mind...

Everyone, especially little girls, should be allowed to pet the horses, and it's silly that it's not just a given.
All horses win. There are no losers. They run so fast and beautiful that they all should be rewarded.
Even the trainer and official horses should get prizes for how good of a job they do, and how pretty they are.
Black and white Pintos automatically are rated #1.
The jockeys should really learn to ride better, because when they sit up like that they're just gonna fall off easier.
All betting is friendly.
They should all get treats.
No horse should be spanked, and finally, all horses should be allowed to get their picture taken, with all their other horse friends, in the Winner's Circle.

In the real world, it's hard to remember every day that we are in a race. Each step is one step closer to a finish line, but since we don't know where or when we'll cross that line, it's easy to become distracted. Some of us drift, some of us stop running all together, and while some are dynamite exploding out of the gate, how many really strive with the endurance for a photo finish?
Even against the odds we saw a horse come up from behind the pack, a little fella that didn't look like he'd be a sure winner, but my oh my, did he ever finish well! He gained ground with every leap. His footing was sure, and by the time he crossed the line, he was 3 or 4 lengths ahead of all the horses who'd been picked to win.
I want to be one who can run the race with that kind of focus. Every leap a sure one, every muscle focused on the next big push, not wavering to the left or right, but charged as if it's Reveilee, awakened and set like flint to finish, and finish well.

At the end of his life, before he was martyred, Paul penned some amazing words in 2 Timothy:
'I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.'
It reminds me of my little girl's attitude about winning. It's not a space reserved for one. So long as we can keep the faith and cross the line, then no matter who has crossed over first, we win.

Valley Fair

2011-06-18T08:44:00.000-05:00

We took the family and Andi to Valley Fair yesterday. The kids had never been, and we thought it would be fun for Andi before he has his surgery. I strapped a small camera to my wrist. The rest is for them to remember. Normally I'd bring in some music, and make more edits, but for this memory I'd rather they hear all the sounds of the fair, just the way they were.

Go Make Disciples

2011-06-07T12:02:00.000-05:00

Our very dear friends are right now jetting across the country at 30,000 feet, on their way to Haiti for the summer. They've accepted the call to be the missionaries for Mission Haiti, a local organization that runs an orphanage and several schools in the southern village of Ti Rivier.
It's hard, very hard to see them go, but comforting to know that the Babbs are in the hands of God.
Their kids and ours are close, so much that we can mark the days of the seasons just in sleepovers and birthday parties.
I was with Heather on my first mission trip to New Orleans just after Katrina, and Torrey and I have been brothers through some rough and rocky travails. God has used our families to teach one another amazing life lessons, and we have crossed paths over and over again in His plan. We both now have a strong desire for the people of Haiti. God's plan is that we are not yet to serve together, but we're excited and hopeful for that day, knowing that if we are united in ministry, it will be because of His Will.

But for now, it's bitter sweet. No campfires to share, no swimming, no bbq's, no fellowship. Just the time in devotion to remember them and pray for their work there. Kari and I both admit, we feel like our kids feel when we say goodbye. There's no proper way to keep the emotions from surfacing. We want to hold on and not let go. Almost like a good, strong temper tantrum and foot stomping is in order.
Our ride home from the airport after our goodbye's was filled with ear-splitting silence. Not a peep. Just reflection. In the end, we know that this is not our home and we are not our own. Our hope is in the Lord.

And the BBQ's in Heaven are gonna be stellar!

Our people must learn to devote themselves to doing what is good, in order that they may provide for daily necessities and not live unproductive lives.
Titus 3:14

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.....And this is my prayer: That your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ -- to the glory and praise of God.
Philippians 1:3-11

Taylor & Kandra

2011-05-21T14:49:00.000-05:00

Living Life Less-Than

2011-05-13T11:13:00.000-05:00

http://www.thegrio.com/news/haiti-still-sick-from-child-slavery-epidemic.php

This report came out today, in an effort to keep light on a problem that's once again largely ignored by the world, Slavery.

The girl we sponsor in Haiti is also a child slave, a restavek.

The modern day equivalent to a house servant.

What I've yet to understand is the perspective, the rationalization.

It's considered normal, common practice. I've even met a pastor who I'm told has a restavek. A Christian.

So where does this line become blurry?

Where did we lose the love that Jesus taught?

You want a roof over your head? You want to live? Then you do anything and everything I tell you. You'll be lucky to sleep on my floor. You might eat if we have anything left over. You will not be on the same par as the family...you will be less-than.

For them, it comes down to the ultimate, basic choice in life.

Do you want to survive or not?

“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.“And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me. But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea." ~ Jesus Christ.

Inspiring

2011-04-27T19:53:00.001-05:00

Once in awhile you run across an individual who has discovered his or her gift. They know what they are made of and what they are made for.

They transform the impossible.

What they feel...is natural, fluid, alive.

What we feel... is inspiration.

Be Still

2011-04-15T09:45:00.002-05:00

This is a picture of Lynn, a missionary in Haiti.

It's one of my favorite images this year.

One of the most important questions I ask as a photographer is, "Where is God's signature?"

I look for moments that define the story I want to tell, and moments that are so genuine and powerful that they will tell their own story and interpret the feeling long after I'm gone.

She has a world-class heart. Every time I talk to her she is smiling. While Haiti is probably one of the least friendly places on the planet for a wheelchair, you would never know it talking with Lynn. Her eyes are always dancing and she's always encouraging.

Once when it was everyone's misfortune and my turn to cook, I cracked open some tuna soaked in oil. I poured in a ton of warm mayo and began to stir. The smell was horrendous. The texture already looked as similar as it gets to vomit, and the oil wasn't breaking down. My stomach as turning just looking at it.

I'd wasted about 7 cans of tuna, and I didn't know what to do.

When I showed it to Lynn, she just looked at me and smiled.

"Well, instead of Tuna salad sandwiches we'll just dunk the bread like a dip. It'll be great!"

When I realized she wasn't kidding, I took the sorriest meal I'd ever made and dumped it out, far away from the house, where we wouldn't have to smell it. I wasn't going to be the cause of food poisoning for the whole orphanage.

That girl would have ate it. And she would have smiled! That's how sweet her heart is.

God's Blessed Assurance

2011-04-14T12:18:00.001-05:00

I'm reminded of this man who scooted up a tree last month to get coconuts for us. We were at the top of the mountain, exhausted and thirsty. He even carved out little spoons with his machete, so we could dig out the meat of the fruit. It was the perfect pick-me-up, drinking that sweet milk and refreshing our bodies. 'Natural Gatorade' they say. It was a perfect example to me...

God doesn't call the equipped, he equips the called.

This morning on my way into the city, I began to worship as I was pulling out. My window rolled down I heard the birds singing so sweetly and even remarked to Lord that I may as well shut up, because they are doing a much better job of it.

Today was a vital reassurance from the Lord. Sometimes when we've been in the mire of battle, we come out of the skirmishes a little heavier than when we went in. If we could but see the spiritual, we might be surprised to look down and see the many gashes, the wounds, the arrows cleaved and buried, a hairs-breadth from the major arteries.

Today, many men layed their hands on me and prayed over my family, and I could feel the Lord. He renewed me, refreshed me, he set me back upon my feet and gave me His charge to carry on.

On the way home, this song came flooding to my mind, filling my lungs and in turn the air, and my soul gave thanks to it's Maker. I thought of Haiti and the splendor of my King. I remembered looking down from the mountain in Haiti, toward the sea. Feeling a tie to this foreign place. Being thankful for the breeze, for the little cloud He placed in between me and the hot sun. I remembered walking through the forests, the sharp leaves of the palms and the cactus slicing into me at every misguided turn. No paths, no roads or guidance, just the feeling of how small I felt in such a place, how even though Haiti was small, how very small was I, and yet how Grand, How Great, How Beautiful, my God! I knew He could see me. Because God is on the throne. Not that He was, or that He would be, but that He IS. The Great I AM.

His Hands....Oh His Hands! My only desire is to be found in them. To be wrapped in them, to be under them, to be lifted by them, protected by them, guided by them, molded, caught by them, pointed, driven, and charged by them!

The prayers of these warriors, these faithful men, committed to the same King, minister to me, and the arrows are plucked and have fallen to the ground as refuse, where they belong. Their hands cover my wounds and the Living Word sears over the gashes.

In these moments I look down and imagine my sword. My enemy sees it too, blindingly squinting as it glimmers in the reflection of the Light of my Commander. It will swing out upon the breadth, and the name of the Lord will be glorified.

How Great Thou Art

Lyrics ~ Carl Boberg, 1859 - 1940

English Translation ~ Stuart K. Hine, 1899 -

Stanza 1:

O Lord my God,

When I in awesome wonder

Consider all

The works Thy Hand hath made,

I see the stars,

I hear the mighty thunder,

Thy pow'r throughout

The universe displayed;

Stanza 2:

When through the woods

And forest glades I wander

I hear the birds

Sing sweetly in the trees;

When I look down

From lofty mountain grandeur

And hear the brook

And feel the gentle breeze;

Refrain:

Then sings my soul,

My Saviour God, to Thee,a

How great Thou art!

Then sings my soul,

My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art!

Stanza 3:

When Christ shall come,

With shouts of acclamation,

And take me home,

What joy shall fill my heart!

Then I shall bow

In humble adoration

And there proclaim,

"My God, how great Thou art!"

Refrain:

Then sings my soul,

My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art!

Then sings my soul,

My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art!

On The Market

2011-04-10T15:20:00.001-05:00

We've been praying about this for awhile, and we think it's time. Tomorrow morning our studio and home will be going on the market.

$362,500.

(The properties are mortgaged with the option to assume the loan)

Our photography business has really evolved over the years. Most of our work is now on-location, with weddings or missions, the kids are older and don't need babysitters, and ever since Haiti, we've just felt like God is moving us.

This place has been a tremendous blessing to our family, and we're thankful that God gave us such a wonderfully unique and beautiful space.

We've never felt like it was ours. Since day one we knew that it would be temporary. It's our hope that somehow this building can be used for continued ministry in the community.

Reflections

2011-04-08T21:42:00.000-05:00

I kept noticing her, staring.

Then she'd open her mouth like she was going to eat my backpack.

She'd smile big as she could, then in a flash she'd be sticking out her tongue.

Her eyes were wide as saucers.

"What is she doing??!" I said.

Then I realized, she was looking at her 'funny faces'

in the reflection of my sunglasses,

hooked onto my pack.

Maybe she'd never seen a mirror? I don't know.

She was, to say the least, intrigued.

Let Go. Let God

2011-04-08T12:39:00.004-05:00

I remember this girl in the village, so simple and content with her cup. Some days, we need to just let go of the world and do exactly what we see in this image. We just need to be still, to hold out our cup and wait for the Lord. The blessings will come and the cup will overflow. Amen?

Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble.Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.

1 Peter 3:8-9

John Bouloute

2011-03-30T10:36:00.005-05:00

The first time I met John was up on the mountain last year. He was living near where my sponsor girl lives. Right away, this kid knew when the camera was on him, and every time I looked at John, he was already looking at me.

Last year we knew his situation was rough, and when he came down the mountain with us to the orphanage, I had no idea that he would soon be living there. Lynn, who was there on her first trip at the time, found a shirt that was a perfect fit for him, and he was bubbling.

It wasn't until months later that I found out he was living in the orphanage, and when I got back in February, he instantly recognized me. He picked up with me like I hadn't even left, and gained an incredible amount of respect for me as soon as he saw me popping wheelies on the orphanage bicycle.

He had a bit of a crush on my daughter, which I found I am not at all ready for, and while I would tolerate the daily flowers he would pick for my 'sweet pea', the day I saw him look at her and raise his eyebrows up and down, it was time for an entirely new talk, father-to-misguided-young-man.

After a few days we were back to being buds, and when he saw me carrying the girls' backpacks for them as we were coming home from school, he tried to show me his solidarity by carrying a few of the other kids' packs as well. It was hard for him, but he resolved that he was going to prove something to me, and that was the end of it. His eyesbrows wrinkled and his jaw set, John walked all the way home loaded down with school books, always making sure to stay in front of me, leading the way.

John has always had this tough-guy defense, this display of perfect confidence and steely attitude, so it was hard for my family to be there the day his mother came for him. She'd been in Port Au Prince, leaving John on the mountain in a very similar way my girl Oberline has been left, but now she was back and she wanted her son. The rest of her children, she says, were lost in the quake.

With mixed emotions John and Gertrude, the house mom, packed the bags, and we all came out to see him off. At first there was the tough-guy John, ready to tackle his great new adventure, but when I came to him and hugged him, all that came to mind were three words.

I said, "John, don't forget: Jesi renmen ou." (Jesus loves you.)

I kissed him on the side of his face, and hot tears began to stream down his cheeks.

That impervious smile was gone, and his eyes spoke volumes.

His mother is excited to have him back, and as he left we prayed for him. I hope someday to see him again, to see this boy who is already looking at me, with a great big smile on his face, and eyes full of courage.

Bread

2011-03-28T08:43:00.001-05:00

I'm fairly positive it was my dad who defined true obedience to me. I can still hear the words of the ex-Marine, and I can still remember the healthy attention that he commanded by his presence alone, when, in a moment of attitude or disrespect towards him or our mom, he would speak this most simple phrase:

"When I say 'Jump!', boy, you say 'How High?!"

You knew by the look in his eye and the curl in his lip that you'd better grasp that final warning and turn your heart, or else.

While I don't have the experience or the pleasure of being taught under the United States Marines, to this day I have a healthy respect for any man or woman who served. With my own kids, when it comes to obedience, there's not much lost in translation. The same idea holds true.

Obedience is simply doing what you're told the first time, without asking why.

How many times as kids did we ask the universal 'Why?' only to get the universal 'Because I said so.'

The number of times I've found myself in my father's shoes...it's almost comical the way God puts us on the other side of the fence.

In reality, the truth stares us down when it comes to obedience. It boils down to a matter of the heart, to your attitude.

To hear God's call for our lives we need to have that same level of obedience, and availability. Before we can be available we have to grasp that kind of obedience without condition. If we first give pause, to question, to judge, or to try and reason for understanding with the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth, then we become sticks in the mud, immovable and unavailable.

Just like the Israelites in Exodus 7, God calls us into the Wilderness so that we might worship Him.

Would they have gone out with any bounce in their step if they'd known they'd wander for years, for generations? Had God explained the Manna or the water coming from the rock, the pillar of fire, or the parting of the Red Sea....would they have understood?

When we listen to Him, when we obey without condition, and when we are completely abandoned and given over to His purpose, it won't matter what Wilderness we find ourselves in, what circumstance or predicament has befallen us, because He will be with us.

When we find, like Paul in closing his letter to the Philippians, that we can be content regardless of the circumstances, whether well fed or hungry, we realize that we've come under the watchful eye of our King. And when He is truly our Lord, our Shepherd, we shall not be in want.

A couple of days ago God did some serious rearranging of schedules, and we found ourselves surprised with 18 people for supper. All of us in beginning our day had other plans. But God had His plan. He brought us all together, as just another weave in His Masterpiece, and it was time to eat.

In our freezer were 5 pizzas from our friends who volunteer at a church in town, giving away food.

In the back seat of another friends car was a big sack of bread, given to him by a local bread maker, who'd made too much and yet had the forethought to use the extra as a blessing to someone else.

There were chips, there was soda, and there was even ice cream! In plenty!

We were provided for, and so abundantly that there was bread left over enough to take around to family and friends. When there was still more bread in the sack, we walked over to a neighbor around the corner, out raking her yard, and told her of the provision. She picked out her loaf with a grateful heart. Her neighbors were out in their driveway, and so we gave her an extra loaf to give to them, and watched as she walked over to them, holding in her hands yet another unexpected gift.

My wife thinks maybe there's a book in my future, and tends to remind me that these are just blogs. "Keep it short and sweet" she says, "there's more impact that way."

I think maybe that's how God sees it with us. If He told us the whole story of our lives, word for word, He'd certainly lose us somewhere along the way... We need to be content when He calls and doesn't explain Himself... because it's for our own sake, because He loves us.

He's just keeping it short and sweet.

Shine Like Stars, Philippians 2, and Patchouko

2011-03-23T11:37:00.010-05:00

Someone recently asked me,

"You say you want to give out bibles, but what else are you planning to do? What do you see yourself doing in Haiti, I mean, besides just handing out bibles? You say you're just a laborer in the field, but you're so much more..."

My answer to that is simple, and maybe one that needs to be more publicly understood.

I feel God is asking me to bring bibles to the people of Haiti. I feel like He's opening the doors for that mission.

Now, if I strap a dozen bibles onto my pack and start walking up into the mountains of Haiti, and I go with the wrong attitude, by the time I've gone a mile, those bibles will feel like a mill-stone around my neck, like a giant sandbag pulling me down to the earth. Each step will become a burden and my heart sinks deeper and deeper into the chore. By the time I hand that bible to a Haitian, will I have any love? Will there be any joy or any light? Or will I be tired, exhausted, frustrated and hurried, wanting to just finish my 'job'. Right now, as a photographer, I load a very heavy backpack and walk up and down 30 miles of mountains in Haiti to photograph 1500 kids, so they can be sponsored back in the States. More than once someone has lifted my pack and groaned, wide-eyed at the weight of it, followed by the curious question of 'how in the world?'

All I know is that if I'm grumpy about that pack or the miles I had to walk to find that child, will that little boy or girl feel any love from me as I bark out orders for them to smile? More importantly, what will the people back home see, the child, or the fear masking the child?

If I take that same task of carrying those bibles and choose instead to view it as my mission, my privilege, then those bibles don't bring me down. In contrast to the wrong attitude, those bibles don't weigh anything.

I get to carry the Living Word, God's Love Letter to a hungry soul!

When I hear someone ask me what else I see myself doing besides handing out bibles, the first thought that crosses my mind is, "Can there be any higher calling, anything more worthwhile or of greater eternal value? Can there be any greater privilege?"

You see, this way, when I hand a bible to a hungry soul, there will be love. There will certainly be light, and there will be joy, because of the respect and the reverence that I hold for the book that I'm giving.

Because I know it to be so much more than just a book. It's not a brick, not just some mass, some weight, in my pack. It's the Word of Life. Within the pages of this book I find a scripture that tells me that I get the opportunity to shine like the stars in the universe as I hold out the word of life.

('Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life–in order that I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor for nothing. But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. So you too should be glad and rejoice with me.' Phil. 2:14-16)

Do you understand that it's not just the physical act of holding out that bible that Paul is speaking of, but the attitude in which I do it? Without complaining or arguing. That even if I die, being poured out like a drink offering, that I should be glad and rejoice for the opportunity that I was given to be the ambassador of Christ.... that you too should be glad and rejoice with me? Do you understand that it's an investment in eternity, and not a debit to our short mist of life on this Earth, to give our everything to bring the Good News?

To share this vision, you will first have to be like-minded. We have to be one in spirit and in purpose.

Would you consider Jesus Christ to be one of the greatest teachers to have ever walked this Earth? Can you deny His skill, if after 2000 years we are still talking about the words that came from His mouth?

Would you consider Jesus to be a great leader? Millions have followed Him to receive salvation. Can you deny his ability to lead when you read the accounts of the men who abandoned everything to follow Him, and then tell His story, even at the expense of their own lives?

I've been told I should write a book. I've been told I have the gift of teaching, and also that I am a leader. But if I'm going to be useful to Christ in any of those gifts, I need to look at my Mentor for my example.

My attitude needs to be like His.

Jesus humbled Himself and became nothing. He took the very nature of a servant!

The greatest teacher, the greatest leader, and He did what? Read Philippians 2.

My mission is not to secure or entertain a lofty, more exciting role in God's plan. I'm not laboring for the ambitions of writing a better script, hoping someday for the real-life Broadway show starring me.

I'm content in the awesome responsibility of carrying His word. I have found a need and I am meeting it. I see a thirsty soul, and I have a cup of cold water.

My reward will be the souls I find in Heaven, who are there because they read what was between those pages.

It will be, to me, the best story ever told. While they may never know my name, by the incomprehensible power of Jesus, we will share the same name.

Here is my brother, Patchouko. When he sees me show up at the orphanage, he knows that he and I are are in for alot, and I mean alot, of walking. He knows that we're going up, and down, and up, and down those mountains. He knows that he'll be asking, more than a thousand times, 'What is your name?' and "What grade?" to a child in front of him. He knows hundreds of them won't be on our list, and we'll be writing them on a dry-erase board as new sponsors. He knows many of them we'll never find.

He knows that there is a great deal of work in front of us and that we'll be leaving early in the morning, probably skipping lunch, and coming back late in the day. Even then, he knows we won't be finished, because we'll shoot until there is no more light left to shoot. He knows he will be leaving his wife and his little boy, and that he'll be translating tens of thousands of words for me.

Do you know what he says when we start down the first step of the first trail together?

"I'm excited to accomplish our mission together."

Do you know what he says when he sees me beginning to break down in the middle of the third week, when I don't know if my knees will take another step, but I want to make a surprise trip to the top of the mountain to find the girl I sponsor, to see how her living conditions truly are as a slave?

He says, "I will come with you."

"Patchouko, you don't have to. This isn't for sponsor pictures or for Mission Haiti. I'm going to find the truth about how she's living." I say.

"I will go." He smiles.

"Why would you do that?" I say.

"To encourage you." He says.

Here is my brother Patchouko. We share the same name.

Like-Minded

2011-03-22T15:21:00.002-05:00

Paul writes in Phillipians,

'If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from His love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose.'

Have you ever experienced fellowship with a close friend, and it's to the point where you're so like-minded that it's almost spooky the way you can finish eachother's sentences? It's a bond, a closeness that is really just the living evidence of a deeper relationship.

Some of you, like me, would agree that you had a close sibling, a brother or a sister, or a childhood friend you once shared that kind of sentence-finishing bond with, but what about total strangers.

In the past few weeks I've seen this happen more than in my entire life.

From speaking to a missionary I've never met, to the days spent between Patchouko and I, walking the trails in Haiti, finishing one another's thoughts, to speaking with a chemist. A chemist! Someone who thinks on levels 6 or 7 floors up from my own. Yet still, we can finish eachother's thoughts. A heart surgeon, a contractor, a banker, a pastor, from a company's board of directors right down to a fellow laborer in the field....all in the past week, and yet we're all on the same page.

That's the beauty of being like-minded. When you see the body of Christ exercising itself the way it was intended, you can literally see the inner workings of God's plan. Paul had it nailed. When we're working together the way we're supposed to, the natural fruit of encouragement, comfort, love, tenderness, compassion, unity and joy....sentence-finishing joy, will bubble up to the surface.

Patchouko and I will always come from two totally different worlds. But walking up the mountains of Haiti with me, I'm not being led by a stranger, a guide, or a translator... I'm working, serving, walking side by side with my brother, with my close friend. Our journey is yoked together, and our mission is solid. We are both the adopted sons of the King of Kings, and I know God smiles.

Decisions Today

2011-03-22T08:27:00.003-05:00

Today there is a board meeting to discuss funding my family to go to Haiti.

Today there is discussion about purchasing or leasing my studio.

Today doors will open or close, and all for the Glory of God.

I can see the pieces of the puzzle. I see them on the table, and when they snap together, it's going to be a beautiful masterpiece. What a privilege to be a part of something that holds eternal value.

Ephesians 2:10.... holds a deeper meaning for me today.

www.biblesforhaiti.org

Bibles For Haiti

2011-03-18T12:27:00.004-05:00

While we were in Haiti this month, there came a night where I found myself stirred wide awake.
It's not such an uncommon predicament to find yourself in Ti Rivier. Fact is, more often than not a few extra prayers are sent up every time a coconut falls onto the tin roof. It sounds like a gunshot, ringing in your ears, and nothing gets the blood pumping faster, hearing a noise like that and opening your eyes to inky darkness.
But on this night, I began to walk the grounds of the orphanage and prayed a more specific, mission-centered prayer as opposed to my usual please-send-your-angels, one-in-every-corner, bump-in-the-night variety.

Last year while playing a game of Pictionary with Rose, one of the little girl's in the orphanage, she got very excited at what I was drawing and shouted, "You see my dream!"
In her dream the night before, she saw me, and then my entire family, driving with her all over Haiti, giving people bibles.
I told her that was quite the dream, and over time I began to search for bibles. I'm a Gideon, and I thought that if anyone should be able to get bibles for distribution, it would be the Gideons. After all, we place them in hotels all over the world, giving them away at every possible opportunity.
What I ran into instead was a great big mess of red tape. Not only was I told I wouldn't be getting any bibles, I also was not authorized to conduct any kind of distribution. Just before my last trip I tried to further talks with the organization to start a Gideon camp in the area, but again met with red tape. The result of trying for almost a year with the Gideons to secure bibles for Ti Riviere was this response from the International Outreach Division: "Try Bibles.com".

So here I was in Haiti, one year later.

I asked God simply, "What am I doing in Haiti?" Why do You have me here? What am I supposed to do, Lord? Does it have to do with bibles? Is that from You or is that just me? Please, show me. Show me. Show me."

The next morning began as usual and kids began showing up for me to take their sponsor photo. Usually we go out and hike to their schools, looking for somewhere in the neighborhood of 1500 kids over 30 square miles. But, on occasion, some of them save me the time and come right up to the doors of the orphanage. Those are the kids who aren't playing around. They know what it means to be sponsored, and they aren't taking the chance that I might miss them when I swing by their school.

The first girl came right out of her pose as I was taking the picture and asked, "Can I have a bible?"
In photographing thousands and thousands of Haitian kids, she was the first to ever ask me that.
I found an old, tattered Creole bible in the mission house and walked up to Rose,
"Remember your dream last year, when you told me you were doing God's work, giving away bibles?"
"Mmmmm-hmmm." She said.
"Well, I thought you might like to have the honor of giving away the first one?"
Rose's eyes lit up and sparkled, and she handed the bible to the girl. We watched her walk back out the gates of the orphanage with a big smile. Her name was Lovely Charles.

Immediately after her, two older boys walked into the yard.
"Are you here for sponsor photos?" I asked.
"No. We'd like to have bibles."
Into the mission house I went again.
"Now you boys are going to keep these, right? Not selling them?"
"No!" they said.
"Please sit with me and read Romans 12 before you go."
And they did. Word for word. One of the boys couldn't read very well, so the other boy read with him, speaking the words clearly.
When they finished, they were very excited and thanked us as they left.

After that, one of the girl's I sponsor, Oberline, came down the mountain with her cousin Modeline, and the Sunday School Teacher in Kari could no longer be contained. She started a bible study with all of the kids. She began at the beginning with creation, and by the time she'd made it to the cross, Oberline and Modeline said they wanted to follow Jesus. Kari asked her if she had a bible, and when Oberline shook her head, that just wasn't going to do. Lucy, one of the youngest girls in the orphanage, ran straight to her room to fetch her own bible. She scratched out her own name, wrote in Oberline's, and presented it to her with a smile.

By that afternoon, another boy asked me for a bible, and there just were no more to be had. It was heart breaking to look into his eyes, with all of his poverty, and not be able to give him something that millions today treasure, all over the world.

Back in the states as we came to rest on Sunday morning at Assembly of God church in Brandon, South Dakota, the pastor asked us to stand and give a brief account of Haiti. Just as we began to sit he pointed at me and asked me if there was something more to say.
It felt like a kick in the pants from the Lord, and I stepped out into the aisle.
"I need bibles for Haiti. I'm a Gideon, but I haven't been able to find any. There's a great need there. I'm not asking for your money, unless that's God's plan, but I do need your prayers. I need your support." I felt my throat begin to tighten.

"Say that again." the pastor said.
"I can't." was all I could say. Hot tears came running down my cheeks and my throat closed.
"Let me see if I've got this right." The pastor said. "People.... in Haiti....need bibles? What do you think church? Do you think this is something we can get behind?"
"Yes!" came the overwhelming response.
"What translation do you need?" someone asked.
"Haitian Creole." I said.
"Let's meet this need, church." Said the pastor.
After the service, when all I could do was sob, I watched people filing out, putting their money in a plate.
"Stay for the second service and speak again?" asked the pastor.
"Absolutely." I said.

$619 was raised for bibles to Haiti. All I did was cry, but God still got the job done. And I've made up my mind that if all He requires from me is to be a fool for Him and cry, so be it. I don't need any fancy words, and I certainly don't need the spotlight. The glory is His.

Today, I'm starting a site. www.biblesforhaiti.org. The mission will be simple. Go there and give, or go there and find out where to pick them up in Haiti. That's the simple nuts and bolts of it. I trust it to God to raise up the ministry of His Word as He sees fit.

Now we're on to the task of finding where to buy the bibles, but one day soon, I know of at least 2 cases that will be at the orphanage in Ti Rivier, ready for the hands and feet to carry them up the mountains and place them into the hands of the souls who've hungered for them.

Emmanuel

2011-03-17T11:33:00.002-05:00

While we were in Haiti last month, I mentioned in passing to my friend Patchouko that the kids were dying to taste a fresh coconut, so the next day there he was, looking for one to pick outside his house. Emmanuel, the young man who helps haul water for the orphanage, was nearby, and Patchouko asked him to run up the tree for it. While this has always been a thing of wonder for me to see, to guys like Emmanuel, it's a walk in the park, something they do all the time. Still, I'm always photographing them in amazement when I see them practically run up the vertical, branchless palm, sometimes 30 feet in the air.
On this day, it was no different, except that the coconuts were much easier targets, only about 15 feet up a smaller tree.

But just as Emmanuel reached the top, we heard the crack. I snapped the photograph the instant we heard the snap, and in the next blink of an eye, Emmanuel was falling head first to the ground.

There was just enough time for a knee-jerk reaction, and Patchouko lunged forward with his foot. His shoe became the only thing between Emmanuel's head and the ground.
As soon as he hit the ground we knew why the tree had given way. It was rotted through to the core with fire ants, which were now all over Emmanuels arms, biting him.
At first, he was completely out of it. His eyes were rolled back in his head, and saliva bubbles were gurgling out of his mouth.
Patchouko took off running for help, and as he began to come back to this world, I held this young man on the ground. I told him to be still, and began to pray. All that would come out was simple.
'Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. He's a good boy. Reach inside him Jesus. He's a good boy.'

Patchouko came back with help and immediately, as seems to be the Haitian way, they poured water on Emmanuel's head. The American in me was afraid to move him at all, but they stood him up and walked him right away. We sat him on a bench for 20 or 30 minutes, making sure he knew his name, making sure he could tell us what day it was. Patchouko's wife Jesula walked straight up to him and began turning his head in all directions of movement, like a chiropractor.
But Emmanuel had made up his mind that he was going home, and so he forced himself get up, and we began to walk him home.

It was a fall that I'm certain would have killed me. And yet the next day when we came back to check on him, there was Emmanuel, kneeling on his bed with his bible, praying to Jesus.

Cory, one of the short-tem missionaries at the orphanage, joked that he had a perfect worship song to sing, called "We Fall Down...."
We prayed with him again, and then began to sing more uplifting, grateful songs.
Emmanuel, if you ever meet him, is an instrument of wonder to me. He's like a walking, talking, breathing praise and worship band. He knows dozens and dozens of songs, every word, and all by heart. Hearing him sing to Jesus was a beautiful thing to me.

While he was recuperating, a friend of Emmanuel's picked up in his place to haul the water, and we saw the close-knit fellowship among the young men in the village. Right away like a reflex, they stepped in to help, just as Patchouko stepped in when he saw Emmanuel's head sailing towards the ground.

Within the week, Emmanuel was back to pumping and hauling the water from the well, sitting with us at night singing praise songs, giving the glory to the Lord and smiling. He doesn't remember anything, except seeing and hearing me talking to him after the fall.

Most amazing to me was seeing God, even in the way Emmanuel fell. Look at the picture again. If he'd fell in any other direction, he would have landed on the razor-wire walls or the sharp tin roof. He could have be sliced and diced, could've broken his back on the wall or the 2x4 bracing, but he just happened to fall on the soft ground, with Patchouko's foot to break the fall.

And yet here he is, guarding the door of the orphanage on a particularly busy day, listening to praise music, and smiling.

God is good.

My Birthday Gift

2011-03-14T14:19:00.003-05:00

So I have to make special mention today for the birthday card I received today...No, not the one from my loving, older and supposedly more mature brother who says to give him a call soon as I pass all the intestinal worms from Haiti, (only a brother would send a card like that). I know what you're thinking. While it's almost inconceivable that any other card could possibly be more touching and heartfelt than that, the next card takes the cake. It was anonymous..... well, sort of.

Written on a purple piece of construction paper, and magically appearing on my desk when I got up to get the mail, in an almost invisible, detective-like fashion, it stated:
"Happy Birthday ~~Dad,~~ Dan. Hope you lik (like) it. Spend it wisely now. "
Inside, stuffed and crumpled into a big ball, was $18 in cash, taped with double-sided sticky tape to the card. It was unsigned of course, so that the sender might remain anonymous, because 'otherwise Daddy will know it's from me and he'll never spend the money.'

Thank you, my little sweat pea, for a very thoughtful and carefully planted card, but Abigail, there's no way on God's green earth that I'm going to spend your Piggy Bank money.

Love, Dad

P.S. Would You Like to Hear Her Sing?

2011-03-11T11:36:00.005-06:00

I know where Oberline lives. At the very top of the mountain. My good friend and translator Patchouko and I made an early morning, surprise hike to find her. We didn't want them to know we were coming, because things are quickly polished up before we arrive. Soon as we reached the top, kids went running to find her, so we had to move quickly.
I had no time to get my camera out of the pack once I saw her. She was running away from me to hide out of embarrassment. Her clothes were literally rags, and she'd been out climbing trees to bring the family Aprico, a Haitian fruit that grows there naturally. That's one of her many jobs that must be carried out, along with hauling water from a very great distance, every day. When she doesn't do her job well enough, she is simply beaten. They showed me a bed where they said she slept. My friend told me that there is no way she'd be allowed a bed to sleep. She was in a social class below that luxury. In the rafters of the small shack are the tell-tale signs of voodoo. Black bags and nets, hanging overhead.

I'd asked her to come down the mountain the next day, but when she didn't show, I happened to be hiking right by her house on another mission with Pam, the founder of Mission-Haiti.
An hour later, her cousin Modeline, Oberline and I, were skipping down the mountain together towards the orphanage by the sea.

Once we got down, the first thing my wife noticed is that it had been a very long time since either of them had bathed. Even though our shower in the orphanage is just a bucket of cold well water, I don't think they'd ever experienced such a treat. Standing outside the showers I could hear Oberline giggling uncontrollably, splashing water all over, using our little bar of Ivory soap. She was giddy.
Kari noticed a rib protruding in a very jagged way from Oberline's side, and one of the nurses in the orphanage confirmed it had been broken for quite some time. She'd need surgery to heal it properly, and in this little girl's life, she'd sooner win the lottery than ever be afforded that opportunity.

When I asked my little 7 year old Abby if she'd mind giving up a couple of dresses for them, she just smiled and said to me, "I can always get another one in America. Down here, we ARE their store."
She gave away her two favorite dresses without another thought.

We ate some food, the kids threw a mini tea party in honor of their guests, and Oberline told my son that she'd been taught up the mountain that our God was very small, but that Satan was very big.

I illustrated my beliefs the best I could. Satan pitit (little), and Bondye Gwo! (God is Big!) Then I looked up and fell backwards onto the ground. Oberline got a real kick out of that.

Lucy, one of the orphanage girls whose smile is like a lighthouse in the night, ran up to her room, grabbed her Haitian bible and crossed out her own name. She wrote in Oberline's name and gave it to her straight away.

By that time, these two Haitian girls were so excited and happy that they were ready to sing. Bashfully with the camera pointed their direction, they began to sing, and here is their first International Debut. :)
May I present Modeline Guerrier and Oberline Limite...

Update: Andi Gedna translated the theme of this song for me. It is a Haitian Catholic Song. It speaks of being hungry and in great need, asking Father God, who is innocent, to come, begging Him to help them.

I Still Hear Her Sing

2011-03-11T10:28:00.002-06:00

Little girl i know in Haiti

got a broken rib sticking out of her side.

been that way a while now

but she’s got bigger problems in her life.

if she makes it one more day,

wherever she is taken in,

mom and dad have gone away,

she’s just in the wind.

i’ve wasted so much time

just moving the battle lines

one step forward,

one step back again.

in the meantime she’s just trying

to see another sunrise,

keeping Jesus as her friend.

even though the voodoo tells her

God is small and Satan’s great

she has a light in her eyes,

she sees the lies.

they can’t take away.

she sleeps on the floor

she’s not allowed a bed.

on the ground just inside the door,

that's where she'll lay her head.

all that I have given her

someone else now owns.

right down to my family picture

hanging in another home.

She has no rights, she has no love.

but I still hear her sing.

A slave to those on the mountain above

but a child of the Most High King.

They beat her when she’s not done enough

yet after all this while,

when our eyes meet, she still gives to me

the world’s most beautiful smile.

Home From Haiti

2011-03-09T18:23:00.002-06:00

We are back from Haiti after a 3 week stay.
We had the pleasure of finding and shooting over 1,300 kids all over the mountains and valleys near Ti Riviere. All of their pictures will go into books that Mission Haiti will then use to raise funds for sponsorship. Every time a kid gets sponsored for $75, it means 1 meal every day, shoes, backpacks, and school for the year.
The kids got to play and have tea parties with Oberline. Rose Mislene stopped in to visit a few times, Emmanuel fell out of a palm tree and almost died getting a coconut for my daughter, every kid virtually disappeared the third week as the festival to worship Satan began early, and my good friend Patchouko and I spent days and days, climbing up and down the mountain together, talking about virtually every aspect of life. Gertrude, the mom for the orphanage kids, would like a pair of cherry red high heeled sandals that I am on a mission to find, and somehow, I don't know how, I need to find a way to get a 4-wheeler or ATV to Haiti, as I've mapped and GPS'ed over 30 miles of trails in the past weeks. I think the opportunity for ministry is greater the further we climb into the mountains.
There will be much more to write about in the coming weeks....

Praise

2011-01-28T11:52:00.002-06:00

This is a young lady from a very small village in Haiti. I was so moved and inspired by her that I had to turn on my camera. I didn't want to cause a disturbance, so I just recorded from my lap, with the lens turned her direction from underneath my arm. It was a beautiful moment to see her Praising God without inhibition. To this day I still feel like I learned so much in those precious few minutes. On the outside, the music and instruments were far from perfect. But, on the inside! I can only imagine it must have been the most beautiful sound in all the world to Jesus.

As most of you know, writing about Haiti, even a year later, has been next to impossible for me. I just haven't been able to bring myself anywhere near those feelings and emotions. Maybe because I'm scared of them? I don't know.
But, I read this quote the other day from one of my favorite childhood authors, and it's really given me pause.
"Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on." — Louis L'Amour

I live in America, more specifically in the heartland, north of the Bible Belt, where sometimes the praise of God can seem more akin to a can of Spam rather than the juicy, grilled filet mignon that I read it to be in the scripture. There is such contrast between a human being in love with the notion and the window-dressing of Christianity and one who is simply given over to Jesus, filled with the Holy Spirit, who really believes in the King of Kings, that He saves us, that He loves us, that He desires so much for us.

In our churches today there is this amazing phenomenon where instead of praising God with all of our heart and soul, the sound booth perfectly queues up a taped recording of someone else, doing that for us. We see kids marched up to the front for the latest program, or adults 'leading' us in worship. We hear outstanding musical numbers, full orchestras, with these invisible voices of other choirs and kids who are singing angelically in tune. They are excited and jubilant and really quite remarkable as the sound is pumped beautifully through the loudspeakers. Meanwhile, here in real time, our lips are barely moving. Something resembling a dying chicken is being emitted from our throats, a whispered, almost audible tone coming from our lungs, and we serve this up to our Creator....as praise.

Right now it's mostly the children's programs and the special music, but how long until it's just the way we worship? Those kids grow up, and they teach their kids, right? How long until worship dies, and how soon will the church that is built upon those masks die with it?

"Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth,
burst into jubilant song with music;

make music to the Lord with the harp,
with the harp and the sound of singing,

with trumpets and the blast of the ram's horn—
shout for joy before the Lord, the King.

Let the sea resound, and everything in it,
the world, and all who live in it.

Let the rivers clap their hands,
let the mountains sing together for joy"

Psalm 98

Clara Grace

2011-01-22T09:34:00.001-06:00

7lbs. 3 oz.
20 inches
Born to the proud parents, Michael & Angela,
on December 15th, 2010 at 11:05pm

Lisa & Darin

2011-01-21T17:16:00.000-06:00

these two got sooooooo very very cold! But they toughed it out and plowed through the snow with us all the way.

Dan Elliott Weddings

2011-01-17T23:42:00.002-06:00

It took a little longer this year to pick the brides to showcase, but we've finally got www.danelliottweddings.com overhauled for 2011.
A little cleaner this time around, softer edges and a little more flow.

Ideally

2011-01-17T09:39:00.003-06:00

I've been thinking of this word alot lately.
Ideally.
What is it really?
Is it a cross between what we want, what we desire, what we assume, what we expect, and what we perceive?

And then, after you've sifted down to what you'd call a reasonable definition, sculpted in your own mind, what would be your life, ideally?

I'm beginning to wonder if we can't use the idea behind this word to understand what's most hidden about ourselves, things about us that aren't seen on the surface.

Ideally, I'd like to shoot and provide for my family throughout the Spring, Summer and Fall, and then ship down to Haiti over the winter to do God's work. (I've reserved this spot for you to interject your smirk or your laugh, or your Amen....)
In images, in building, in relationships, in discipling, in conversations and friendships, in serving and loving, I want to walk the way I think Christ would, not if He were in my shoes, but if I were in His...

But what does that really reveal about me?

Most days I completely fail. Yet, still it's what I find in my core. People here hibernate with the snow, or they migrate just like the honking geese that fly over my window every October and November. It would seem ideal, that if I'm going to serve, if I'm going to be useful, this would be the time.

The bank would flatly disagree, and understandably so. I need to use this time to strategize and plan for advertising, to reinvent myself, and bottom line....pay that mortgage.

But when I start to think of what God, the creator of the Heavens and the Earth, might have planned for me, ideally, what good works He may have prepared in advance for me to do, I get the sense in His economy, the picture may look entirely different than mine.

Did He create me to ho-hum through life, to migrate north and south, honking all the way? Did He put me on this Earth so I might live a long and fruitful life of making timely payments on the mortgage?
Did He bring me into being so that I might just survive, get by, squeak along?
Or could it be that I'm here for something more? Something of greater value. An eternal investment toward the everlasting, instead of paying down the note on something that is just withering away. It all winds up in the garbage dump someday anyway, doesn't it?

My challenge in the coming days is to step outside of my idea of ideally.

Maybe, playing the game will change once I change the way it's played.

Here is a montage I put together of a little girl that I met on my first hike up into the mountains of Haiti. You'll see in the video there's a few shots of me giving her things, a necklace, some hair ties, soap, things like that. I had to take them back from her a few hours later, because I found out that she is a slave to one of the families up on the mountain, and they were just going to take them away from her as soon as I left. It was the first time in my life that I met someone who actually believed she was 'less-than' everyone else. My heart has been broken for her ever since.
I don't know that she's ever been afforded the idea to think of what her life might be, ideally.

Day One

2011-01-15T10:59:00.002-06:00

Imagine if we could see life this way...
the span of our time here on this Earth, in the breadth of a couple of minutes. The fear to stand on our own two feet, then the will to push out and bet the farm, given a slight nudge.
The determination, the constant moments where we lose our balance and plummet down to the ground, just when we think we've got it all figured out. How hard it is sometimes to get back up, and yet, after years of practice, it begins to get a little easier. We have to plant our feet just so...push with this muscle that we never knew we had, and strive. Then, someday, once we've earned our bruises and we have the aches and pains to prove that we've lived, maybe we'll know what it feels like to fly.

Wylie

2011-01-04T10:14:00.002-06:00

This is Wylie.
I love shooting her. She is one of the sweetest girls I've ever met, just as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. She has natural talent, and loads of it. She knows exactly what I'm looking for with every pose and angle, and as Kari puts it, she just knows how to move.
Wylie won Ms. Photogenic at this year's Teen SD pageant, and with us, for shooting in crazy subzero temperatures, kneeling down and laying in the snow, even scooping it up with her bare hands to blow a few flakes at the camera, she wins our 2010 Toughest Girl of the Year.

Winter Bridal Special plus Erin & Joel

2011-01-03T11:39:00.001-06:00

We're a little behind this year... haven't even had a chance to take down the Christmas tree yet (yes, the fire hazard grows a little more serious every day)
So without any further delay, we offer our Annual Winter Bridal Special.
Free engagements to any weddings we book between Jan 1 and Valentines (Feb 14).
Happy New Year!

Here's Erin & Joel, braving the cold for some wintry engagements

Silver Oaks

2010-12-14T16:25:00.000-06:00

charlie

2010-12-13T16:10:00.001-06:00

Just started going through these images today from a family shoot we did in a client's home...
i think this is my favorite shot of 2010.
He reminds me so much of the kid in the e-trade commercials.

It's like he's saying,
"So, I'm Charlie. This is my crib. That's my video monitor, where I can facetime with all of my peeps. And yeah, that's my mobile. Mom likes it. I think it adds a little color to the room. And besides, it's good to be in good with the Mom, you know what I'm sayin?"

Sammi

2010-12-13T13:21:00.000-06:00

Gaea's Girl

2010-12-07T13:35:00.000-06:00

Portraits of Hope

2010-12-06T10:43:00.000-06:00

This was a free benefit put on at the Union Gospel Mission to help families who might not be able to afford portraits. Our favorite makeup artist Angelique was on hand to powder and puff and paint, and hairstylists filled the room with clipping hair, blow-dryers and curling irons. Once everyone was loved on, folks got to sit down for family pictures.

Myra

2010-12-03T09:44:00.000-06:00

JB

2010-11-30T08:36:00.001-06:00

Michael & Angela

2010-11-22T13:25:00.000-06:00

We first shot their engagements clear back in May of 2006, just before Michael shipped off for Iraq.
Now here they are again...except this time, instead of just the two of them, there's three. :)

Hammer

2010-11-18T22:51:00.000-06:00

Jon & Allison

2010-11-16T09:38:00.000-06:00

Jon & Emily's Engagements

2010-11-13T08:00:00.000-06:00

After posting their wedding I realized I never posted Jon and Emily's engagement session, because that was when I was in the middle of being buried this summer. I really liked them, just never got around to posting hardly anything in the past few months.

Jon & Emily

2010-11-12T17:46:00.001-06:00

This was one of my favorite weddings this year. We shot their ceremony, dance and reception all on the family farm, in the same spot where her mom and dad were married. I used the sun alot in the imagery, because this young lady is like a beam of light. When Emily smiles, you have to smile with her. She has no reservations. She'll dance her heart out to Michael Jackson on the dancefloor with her new husband, and there is not a shred of timidity. Jon is right there with her, and I get the feeling this guy would do anything in the world for her.

Sean & Amber

2010-11-11T09:03:00.000-06:00

My second oldest friend in this world was married at the top of the Bighorn mountains. It was a Wyoming cowboy's wedding complete with bull moose, horses, dogs, pistols, boots and plenty of rootin-n-tootin. It was old-fashioned and yet high tech. The lodge we shot the wedding at had wi-fi, and since Sean's mom couldn't make the trip up the mountain, we hooked up my Mac at the top, then drove down and hooked up Sean's laptop down below. She was able to watch the entire ceremony and part of the reception in real-time, while his brother in California logged on and watched also. The clouds parted and the rains lifted just in time for the wedding, and these two are officially 'hitched'.

Taylor & Kandra

2010-11-10T14:32:00.000-06:00

The Gate

2010-11-10T11:45:00.004-06:00

I had a dream last night, of a paradise. A mountaintop like I've seen a hundred times in the Bighorn mountains back home in Wyoming, just before a place called Bald Mountain, where a natural spring comes out of the side of the hill on the road. It was lush and green, breathtakingly crisp, like just after the wildflowers bloom on the top of the rolling hills there. The color was so vibrant I could almost smell it, rich with greens and blues. On the rolling hill in front of me and winding through the foothills of this great mountain was a mass of people, traveling this road. Not in single file, but walking as a people migrating to a destination.

There was a palpable anticipation in the air, in the people. Just beyond the mountain a beautiful light was shining, like the sunset just before dusk. I was standing there, on a ridge looking down upon this scene, and I was overcome with this deep sorrow, heartache. I was crying.

Someone next to me was confused at my stature and asked, "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
I said, "Because just beyond there is a gate, and only a few will enter."
Thousands upon thousands, as far as the eye could see. Men, women, children. All ages, all races, and yet only a few, a handful, would be received.

I woke up and was bothered, wondering about the dream and what it meant. The rest of the family woke up and came to the table, and Kari asked me if we could have a family devotion. We read from Matthew 7, about asking, seeking, knocking. We talked about how all of those words require a motivation on our part, an action. You don't get answers if you don't ask, you don't find if you aren't seeking (ever play Hide-n-Seek and the person looking for you just gives up and goes off to play....at first you're thinking you're an expert Hider, then you're hot, then you're sweaty, then you're exhausted, and you come out of your hiding place to see the person totally immersed in some other game....), and if you ever go over to someones house, but just stand outside without knocking, the door won't open. We illustrated what knocking on a door really means. I went outside the front door and began knocking loudly. The dogs snapped to attention, barking on high alert, jumping around the door to see who was on the other side. Knocking....yields results.

After everyone got up to start their day I read a little further, and came to this verse, and the dream fell into place:
"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.
(Mat 7:13-14)

It's not hard at all to coast through life and miss the point. Get up, go to work, have some lunch, come home, kick off the shoes, order in some pizza, watch a show, ask the kids about the day, go to bed, breathe in breathe out, sleep, wake up, get up, go to work.....

Barnes writes about the path to heaven this way:
'It is not “the great highway” that people tread. Few go there. Here and there one may be seen - traveling in solitude and singularity. The way to death, on the other hand, is broad. Multitudes are in it. It is the great highway in which people go. They fall into it easily and without effort, and go without thought. If they wish to leave that and go by a narrow gate to the city, it would require effort and thought.'

Do you not know? Ask.
Have you not found? Seek.
Are you standing in front of a door, closed to you? Knock.