Some people scoff at Instagram that it only portrays your life in the best possible light and filter. It’s not real. I get it.
But another way to look at Instagram is that in spite of what the news tells us, there is still a lot beauty in this world, and millions of people around the world are seeing it. Beauty that builds up and doesn’t tear down. Beauty that gives hope and inspiration and even a little bit of joy. Some of it is filtered, and that’s OK, because everyone looks at the same work of art and sees things differently, each drawing out something beautiful we may not have noticed before. It’s why I selectively follow a lot of photographers and artists —many of whom I’ve never met, but I swear I know them somehow. And no matter what kind of day I’m having, I can take a quick browse through my Instagram feed and be awakened once more to the wow and goodness that God has created and painted and is being celebrated all around us...
“…You’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.”—Philippians 4:8, The Message
...But there’s another, maybe more important thing: these photos often tell a story, either obvious or that stir the imagination or revive old memories. Often, it’s a timely but forgotten story that God encourages me to remember for good reason. Because we all forget what matters all too quickly.
That’s what happened with this photo, even though not on Instagram, taken yesterday while on a favorite trail. There is a particular vantage point where I like to pause and gaze, because it looks like someone dropped Little House On the Prairie in the middle of the sticks and rocks of New Hampshire. Each day, it looks a little different, depending on the sun angle and clouds, so I turned on my camera and swung around to look…and was surprised to find this scene of a dog and his best friend walking side by side. Not just another dog, though.
I had met these two awhile earlier on the trail. The owner apologized for the dog being loose and running around sniffing at every twig and leaf. “Are you kidding? No apologies necessary!” And I had noticed this dog looked oddly like an amalgamation of the many dogs I had growing up. And so that trail encounter, and looking at that photo this morning, “somehow” revived a much-needed memory about a Sheltie my mom loved and who she named Nicodemus. As a little kid, I had no idea who Nicodemus was, or why she’d want to name a dog “Nicky,” but yesterday’s picture that told a story reminded me of a recent journal entry…
…There’s a certain catchy song that when it comes on the radio, it’s hard not to tap your toe and sing along. It’s a great message about wanting to have “a little more” of Jesus’ qualities and lifestyle in us each day, but I keep finding myself changing the lyrics at the end of the chorus from “a little more” to “a lot more like Jesus and a lot less like me.” Because as another, much older song puts it: “Jesus paid it all—all to Him I owe”...
“Nicodemus, the man who had come to Jesus at night, came too, bringing a hundred pounds of embalming ointment made from myrrh and aloes. Together [with Joseph of Arimathea] they wrapped Jesus’ body in a long linen cloth saturated with the spices, as is the Jewish custom of burial.”—John 19:38-40, Living
...According to ancient burial customs, what Nicodemus did was astounding. Nicodemus, who first came secretly to Jesus by night, now comes to the cross by day for any and all to see—including his religious peers—in extravagant love and honor. Because he didn’t just bring some run of the mill embalming ointment. For Jesus, Nicodemus brought enough costly spices for embalming 100 or more common burials! And according to customs, the more respected and loved a person was, the larger quantity of the costly materials their burial received.
Nicodemus was the first to change the lyrics to that catchy tune before it was even created, because he didn’t understand “a little more.” It would seem that he finally knew beyond knowledge that this was more than a good teacher and miracle worker. The Son of God had won his heart forever, forgiven his sins, and he would live with Him forevermore, and so only “a lot more” would do…
It’s more than a good Bible story. That moment on the trail combined with the turnaround-and-look photo of the dog and his master, were a needful reminder from Above that it’s always good to be like Nicky: Remember to love Him boldly, love Him extravagantly. More, not less. No holding back—with your photos, your words and deeds, your very life.… Exactly what He has done for us.
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