The Sunrise I Didn't Share

This morning, I woke up, looked out my window, and saw one of the most beautiful sunrises I've seen in probably eight years.

I mean, it was absolutely breathtaking. The kind of sunrise that makes you stop whatever you're doing and just stare.

Now, something you may not know about me is that I used to be pretty serious about nature photography and videography. I had my cameras, my equipment, and a YouTube channel where I'd publish the things I captured. I spent countless hours chasing the next beautiful scene, editing footage, and putting together nature videos.

And you know what I discovered?

Nobody seemed particularly interested.

Now, I thought some of that work was pretty darn good, but I'll admit I'm probably a little biased!

Eventually, I got frustrated and stopped. I retired my cameras, and they've been sitting around for years. In fact, three of them are still staring me in the face every morning.

But today, when I saw that sunrise, something happened.

The old photographer in me came roaring back.

I grabbed my phone first, but I didn't like the artificial-looking colors. So I scrambled for one of my old favorite cameras and started taking pictures and recording video.

I was excited! I wanted to capture that beauty and share it with the world.

Then I sat down at my computer and looked at what I'd captured.

The low-light images were grainy. Some were slightly out of focus. I started correcting colors, adjusting exposure, and trying to make everything look the way it had looked through my own eyes.

And then I thought about what modern AI image tools can produce in a matter of seconds. Perfect lighting, stunning colors, and practically every detail exactly where you want it.

Suddenly, my photographs didn't seem good enough.

And I just threw my hands up.

Forget it.

But after a while, something about that reaction began bothering me.

Because here's the strange part.

The sunrise itself hadn't changed.

It was still one of the most beautiful things I'd witnessed in years. The grain in my photographs didn't make that morning any less extraordinary. Neither did the fact that somebody could create a more polished picture on a computer.

So why had I allowed the quality of my photographs to diminish the joy of what I'd actually experienced?

That's when another thought crossed my mind.

What if I had been so busy trying to capture something beautiful for everybody else that I'd almost missed what was happening right in front of me?

Psalm 19 reminds us that the heavens declare the glory of Yah. And Yehoshua tells us in Matthew chapter 10 that even the hairs of our heads are numbered by the Father.

We serve a Creator who knows us far more intimately than we can fully comprehend.

And that made me wonder: What if some of the beautiful moments we experience aren't necessarily assignments to share with the world? What if sometimes we're simply being invited to stop, pay attention, and be grateful?

I thought about Luke 2:19, where Mary treasured the things she had experienced and pondered them in her heart.

Now, there's nothing wrong with sharing something beautiful. Scripture certainly encourages us to declare Yah's goodness. And I'm grateful that photography allows us to preserve moments that would otherwise pass.

But perhaps there's also a time to simply receive something without immediately asking what we can do with it.

I've wrestled with this in my study of Scripture, too. There have been times when I believed I'd discovered something meaningful and couldn't wait to tell somebody. When others didn't understand what I was trying to communicate, I'd become frustrated.

But what if I needed to spend more time reflecting on those things myself? What if I was so concerned with convincing someone else that I hadn't fully appreciated the opportunity to grow through what I was studying?

I don't have all the answers.

I can't tell you that Yah created this morning's sunrise especially for me, or that He was sending me some specific message. I wouldn't claim to know that.

But I can tell you what the experience made me realize.

Not every beautiful moment needs an audience to have meaning.

Maybe you've experienced something similar. A quiet morning, a beautiful landscape, a moment with someone you love, or a passage of Scripture that touched your heart.

And perhaps your first thought was to capture it, publish it, or explain it to somebody else.

The next time that happens, maybe try something different.

Before reaching for the camera or the phone, take a moment. Look around. Be grateful. Thank Yah for what is right in front of you.

You can always decide whether to share it afterward.

This morning, I decided not to publish my photographs.

And while I can't show you how beautiful that sunrise was through my eyes, I can share what I learned while trying to capture it.

Maybe the most valuable thing I brought away from that morning wasn't a photograph at all.

Maybe it was the reminder that some of life's greatest gifts are worth experiencing, even when nobody else ever sees them.

May Yehovah help us recognize His goodness in the ordinary moments of our lives, give us hearts that are grateful for His creation, and teach us when to speak and when to simply be still.

Glory to Yah in Yehoshua's name.

Amen and amen.

— Wayne Bodie Books Audio