I have 30,000 images on my phone.
Some of those are the mess-ups and mistakes and the not-quite-right attempts at artwork I’ve been doing since 2021 began.
Some are screenshots of quotes I’ve found and loved and wanted to hold onto in case they found their way into my artwork sometime in the future.
But most are memories.
Most of the photos I have stored on my phone are not formal photos where everyone is smiling at the camera.
Instead, most are split-second moments I’ve tried to capture before they are gone. (sometimes successfully, sometimes not)
Thousands of tiny, precious, seemingly insignificant moments.
Sometimes when I look back through my camera roll I forget why I felt compelled to take a particular photo at particular time. But more often seeing a random image from years ago “kills me with delight” when I come across it.
Like the image I scrolled past the other day of my twins as babies hugging each other and laughing as if it was the best hug they ever received.
Or the image I found yesterday of my three boys sitting in discarded diaper boxes watching TV.
Or the one where I caught a double rainbow across our fence in our first house almost ten years ago.
There’s something about scrolling back through these random photos that brings me great joy.
These photos remind me of the thousands of little moments when God tapped me on the shoulder just to make sure I was paying attention.
May you see or hear something this weekend that kills you with delight. May it be just one of the thousands of moments God intends to grace you with ahead.
