The photo man always rings twice

It was not on my mind to evangelize the photographer. It was on my mind to get a good photo this time and never see him again, at least for five years. I’m not saying God is the one who scuttled the first portraits to arrange for a retake. I will just say I see less and less random coincidence in life.

Peter hauled in camera, tripod, light stand, reflector, and umbrellas, and launched into the psychologist part of his metier, coaxing the best mood out of an emotionally spiked female subject. He made small talk about global insanity, adducing as exhibit A the latest ISIS beheading—of a man named Peter. I replied with something about Jesus, not consciously proselytizing, just a knee-jerk response. A photographer never wants to disagree with the religion of the person he is about to shoot. “Yes, Jesus! We need Jesus alright! Or somebody!” he agreed.

What I have learned about professional photographers, as opposed to weekend cell phone selfie warriors and Instagramers, is that they will take a hundred clicks of one pose, then have you elevate your chin a millimeter and do it all over again. This encouraged repetitiveness on my part too, especially toward an over-polite interlocutor handing me openings: “So, how often do you have to write?” “Five times a week for the online and bimonthly for the paper.” “Five times a week! Lot of pressure.” “Jesus has been faithful,” I said. “Trusting Him relieves pressure when you actually do it and not just talk about it. … I have put all my eggs in one basket.”

I could feel politeness pass into genuine interest. To reinforce the point about moment-by-moment faith, I cited Peter the Apostle walking on water. “I didn’t know Peter walked on water; I thought Jesus walked on water,” the 21st-century Peter said, giving me a good fix on his Bible literacy level, which I estimated to be below most churchgoers and light-years above the average Gen-Yers. So I informed the apostolic namesake in my living room that Peter asked to join Jesus off the boat, and Jesus was pleased that he thought to ask. Peter did fine, too, as long as his eyes were fixed on Jesus, but started to sink when his focus changed to the turbulence on the Sea of Galilee.

Peter was in a kneeling position packing his equipment. … I followed an inner prompting: ‘As long as you’re on your knees, can I pray for you?’

Peter was in a kneeling position packing his equipment in a black suitcase, and I followed an inner prompting: “As long as you’re on your knees, can I pray for you?” Not many people reject prayer (though some do), so I asked that God would make Himself real to Peter and his wife and son. Then Peter the Photographer mentioned Peter the Apostle approvingly once more before leaving. He also said that Gary, the founder-director of the photo agency he was freelancing for, phoned last night to pray for him. They had been classmates at San Jose State in California in the early ’70s, their paths crossing again after decades.

I related the morning’s incident to my husband. He said, “So God answered our prayers.” I said, “Did we pray for the photographer this morning?” David said, “No, we prayed for the advancement of God’s kingdom through us today.” “Oh, right.”

I emailed Gary too. He said, “I’m really tickled that we’re doing part two on you, because I pray for Peter and his family, but I didn’t really know that prayer was touching him till your testimony.” He backtracked to July 20, 1968, when a friend invited him to a church. On the way home, “the guy shared how the Lord gave His life for me. This moved me, that the Lord could be part of our life, and all we had to do was accept Him as personal Savior. … I didn’t think I was a sinner till he explained what sin was. … I didn’t know what the good news was. … But that night it made a lot of sense. I knew it was just me and God for the rest of my life. Me and God.”

This story has its back stories too, but we have space here only for the main one—that our artful God is ever working angles, which is why it should hardly surprise us to learn that the photo man always rings twice.

Email aseupeterson@wng.org