A high resolution photo for the back cover of my book. 22 November 2012
After failed attempts by my husband’s kind efforts of avoiding intimate contact with his phone lens camera and my sun cracked face, I gave up and ran in to the ID photo shop with full intentions of exposing the truth for what it is.
So I lifted my wrinkles to the photographer. It’s not as if I am hiding something under them – like those very fat people who find long lost articles between their fat folds.
They never looked me in the eye when I showed them Clive’s letter about wanting a high resolution photo of myself for the back cover of the book. The pretty young girl before me still had her warmth on the ID-photo-seat chair when I plunked down on to it. I thought of her shy “I am pretty” smile and the flash of the camera that captured it forever. I had some of those moments. I had many of those moments. But God shook them all out and crumbled my face up in His hand of time. Soon it will be in the waste paper basket, so that life can move in to its full glory and I can collect my forever new body with a face Jesus died for.
The book is now on sale: