When failure makes all the difference

I lived in Alaska for ten years and thought I would never leave. Deborah and I were married there, had four of our five children there, and learned to serve in local church ministry together there.

It was a busy time. Our children were young when we left: four, three, two, and six months. Family, church, work, and community commitments were at an all-time high for us in Fairbanks. It was our home and we were settled.

As a result, I had one unusual, but recurring thought: I have time. When friends asked me to go on fishing and hunting trips, I told them I might do it next year. When I worked in the visitor industry and had special opportunities to do or see cool things, I put them off. “Maybe when the kids get older,” I thought.

This is not to say I missed out on everything. I travelled to many bush areas for ministry or for photographing in village schools. But these were scheduled trips and I was responsible for work when I arrived.

I travelled as far north as Bettles, as far south as the Homer spit, as far west as Kotzebue, and as far east as Delta Junction. And I thought almost every time: “I’ll probably come back someday.”

There are a lot of problems with this way of thinking, I know. It fails to consider my own mortality or the brevity of life. It also fails to consider God’s will. In many ways, it’s foolish.

When God directed us to a new ministry in Wisconsin in 2010, I began to think deeper. I considered the missed opportunities, I thought about the memories I hadn’t recorded in photographs or in writing, and I imagined the future. I had several regrets and made several resolutions.

I regretted ever believing I had time. I resolved to admit my time was in God’s hands. I also resolved to accept more invitations than I turned down. When I did, to bring along the camera, to click the shutter button, and to do much more writing.

The goal would be not only to experience more, but to document those experiences so I could remember and be thankful.

I’m happy to say recent years have been much better. Redeeming the time has been a higher priority and my photo and text file collections have grown. In fact, this habit of documenting life and exploration has become my primary creative pursuit outside the radio studio.

Since arriving on Guam in 2015 I have taken most of the well known hikes, photographed many bird and plant species, plus other wildlife and local landmarks. Nearly all of these experiences have been shared with family and friends. I have pictures of them too.

I’ve developed a system for organizing and archiving these memories, which has been helpful for some recent self-publishing projects. A family photo book is in progress now. Test prints for my first landscape book arrived recently too. After completing my final copy, Lord willing, a box containing both will arrive before Christmas.

Whatever happens, I will enjoy it, and share it, and try to leave record of it behind for my children.