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  • Writer's pictureJosiah Travis

A Father's Photograph

Hey friends, Lindsey Funtik and are both part of this post. Super fun! I recently took these photos of my kids on an ordinary day in the life of the Travis family. I was sort of interested in photographing the kids, but I was also playing artist and exploring how to adjust the angle of light in order to light up a subject's eyes. I really like how these turned out, and had fun learning in the process. Later while I was editing the photos I found myself looking at this one of Isaiah and genuinely getting moved by it. I mean, there's my boy. So many things about the photo spoke to me about who he is. Words and feelings began to come to me and they became my most recent venture into poetry. You can read it below.


Bright eyes take in our world with wonder.

You see what I overlook.

Pine cones, sticks, sparkling rocks; you call them treasures.

A bright mind lives behind those eyes, full of curiosity and wisdom.

Sweet shirtless chest, full of breath and courage.

You stand tall; our love fills your lungs.

A powerful roar lives inside, you won't back down.

Fiery, passionate and rough; I see strength in you.

Soft smile, soft skin; though you roar, you are tender.

Rising early you find me on the couch and snuggle in.

Teddy held close, a faithful companion in your arms.

You rest in mine. You are beautiful my son.


The poem that goes with Emily's photo was written by Lindsey before she even knew that this post was in my mind. Let me quickly tell you about how the poem came to be. Lindsey's apartment is right next to ours and our shared washer and dryer is in the hallway outside our apartment doors. While doing her laundry she heard Laura playing piano and worshiping through our apartment door. Then she heard our daughter Emily break in with cries to be picked up and held--interrupting the flow of worship--or maybe not. Though Laura stopped singing and playing, worship continued in another form. Touched by that moment of interaction--Laura reaching to heaven and Emily reaching to mommy--Lindsey wrote this poem and shared it with us. As soon as I read it I knew I wanted to share it with you.


Snowflake notes meander out

toward the washing machine;

they are round with persistent


Darts of innocent pleas

against neglect follow, chiseling

at the reverence--

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Somehow, a mother at her piano can

look up and down

all at once and

somehow, a tiny world opens

the vastness of God

as proper worship is


with more, different

proper worship.


I want to share one more thought with you today.

I've shared photos of my kids, and a poem too. These point to the love in a proud Daddy's heart. Sure my children displease me often and test my patience. Sure they do things that strain the harmony of our relationship. But they're my kids, and I'm committed to them. I love them.

Could I coax you into awareness today? Your Father in heaven looks at you, he see the photograph that is your face and poetry rises from his heart. Something of His own reflection is seen there in you. Might that awareness draw you into His arms for a moment? Could you pause to hear his steady and patient heartbeat? Can you hear the words that flow from his lips inviting you to find your place as his child? Might the words of that poem be the words that bring definition to you life?


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