Daily Photo Parable

Photo ©2025 by Maylan Schurch
Sabbath and Sunday, December 13 and 14, 2025

According to the time stamp on the above photo, it was almost exactly this Friday evening’s sunset when I snapped this shot. I’d just walked out of our cul-de-sac when I noticed this display. On the left is a sturdy aluminum ladder, and to its right is an ethereal “stairway to the stars.”

From what I can tell, the householder ascended the aluminum ladder to attach the star and its lighted ladder to the corner of an eave. A few minutes later, when I returned from my walk, the solid ladder was gone.

But those two ladders made me ponder a bit. Couldn’t they be a parable for modern life? On the one hand you have a dependable support which will safely elevate you to a height of five or six additional feet off the earth, but no farther. On the other hand, you have a way to a happy eternity, but which you can’t climb with fists and feet, but which beckons you home.

I think a mistake a lot of people – including some Bible folks – make is that human ladders can get you anywhere you want. In Genesis 11, a huge proportion of humanity, remembering Noah’s worldwide flood, decided to build a tower which they hoped would reach to heaven. God scrambled their languages and their plans, since it was clear that they refused to turn to Him for safety.

Any “ladders” in your life you’ve been depending on for more than they’re able to provide? Money? Fame? Power? The true secret of heart-deep security is acquaintance with, and dependence on, the One whom Jesus called “Father.”

To review some of what Scripture says about God, click the link just below.
https://www.bibleinfo.com/en/topics/god

Photo ©2025 by Maylan Schurch
Friday, December 12, 2025

The above photo takes a bit of explaining. What you’re looking at is the screen of my PC, the computer I type my sermons on. The phrase in the center of the display, “the God of all comfort,” was “typed” by my voice. I use a speech-recognition app to dictate my sermon into print while looking at my paper outline. (However, last Friday night – with a concern about a possible power-outage – I actually handwrote almost 20 legal-pad pages before dictating them into the computer.)

Do you see the tiny box, backgrounded in yellow and outlined by a thin pink line? Inside, it says “Please say that again.” This is message the app gives me when it can’t understand something I’ve spoken. But “the God of all comfort” was exactly what I wanted to say, so possibly the app was puzzled by something else I said afterward.

But I can imagine someone looking at that phrase and being astounded by it. “Wait. What was that? Please say that again!” Because the phrase (which is part of 2 Corinthians 1:3) asserts that God isn’t just a comforter – He is the God of ALL comfort. In other words, anything you need comfort about, God can provide that comfort.

Want to read 14 mind-blowing Bible passages about the overpowering comfort of God? Click the link just below:
https://www.bibleinfo.com/en/topics/comfort

Photo ©2025 by Russell Jurgensen
Thursday, December 11, 2025

Two years ago I had a little success with planting herbs in an unused wheelbarrow. I recall carefully watering them every day, and moving them under cover during rainstorms. It yielded cups and cups of basil and cilantro.

This last summer I tried planting finger sized carrots along with basil and cilantro. But things turned out differently. I was traveling and only tended the tiny garden occasionally. The basil and cilantro just stopped growing after reaching about six inches tall. The carrot tops popped out but then seemed to shrink back down. I finally remembered to harvest the carrots recently and the picture shows the entire crop.

They were supposed to be small carrots but these are tiny, as you can see them next to a teaspoon, not a soup spoon. This made me think of the following verse.

I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.
John 15:5

The carrots seem to illustrate the concept that apart from God we can do nothing. I’m sure that peeling these carrots would leave nothing.

Let’s resolve to stay close to Jesus so that we can be fruitful instead of tiny and dried up.

Photo ©2025 by Darren Milam
Wednesday, December 10, 2025

During a recent stroll through the nearby woods, I caught a glimpse of these maple leaves, (growing on a Vine Maple tree). As you can see, the sunlight is penetrating the thin green leaves, almost highlighting them against the darker foliage of the evergreen boughs.

For those that know much about the Pacific Northwest, typically green leaves on just about anything are a sign of healthy growth. You can see from this image that this Vine Maple is very much in the shade of many larger trees around. Even so, enough nourishment sneaks under the canopy to provide the needed nutrients for growth and life.

Using that same thought, we live under some pretty harsh conditions — under a veil of sin. We see the shadows all around and at times we feel the ceiling nearly blocking our nutrients. Just like these green leaves, God provides. He pierces the darkness and the shadows. His life, His nutrients, reach us. We bathe in the beams of light and can grow closer and closer to Him.

John 1:1-5 summarizes it best:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Thank you, God, for knowing what we need before we do. Thank you, God, for providing the nutrients to thrive and grow closer to you. Amen.

Photo ©2025 by Robert Howson
Tuesday, December 9, 2025

As a child, intent on darkening in those squares next to the bird’s name on my checklist, I felt frustrated. Frustrated that I was unable to find a Lincoln’s Sparrow, even though it was supposed to reside in the region where I lived. I looked over many Song Sparrows, trying to change them into the desired species which they so closely resembled on the pages of my Peterson’s Field Guide. I was certain that one of those common birds just must be a Lincoln’s. I finally did find my bird, and today the distinction between the two species is fairly obvious due to my exposure and familiarity with both.

But that doesn’t mean there still aren’t surprises under those feathers. I’m now accustomed to seeing them among the brambles and thickets during the wintertime near home. If I wish to see them during nesting season I need to go to higher elevations where I can find them among the alders and willows in moist areas. But that’s not where I was in April. I was in Texas and the Lincoln’s Sparrows were not where they were supposed to be. They were feeding on the ground in what appeared to me to be dry, inhospitable surroundings, very much unlike the setting in which I was accustomed to seeing them.

That same uneasiness comes on me when I read questions like this: How can we be sure we will be able to stand faithful during times of oppression? Uneasiness, because I don’t know exactly how I will react since I’ve never experienced that identical scenario before. Paul’s approach to this question is the best I can do. Philippians 1:20 states it this way: “My eager expectation and hope is that I will not be ashamed about anything, but that now as always, with all courage, Christ will be highly honored in my body, whether by life or by death.” (CSB) The same rule for identifying sparrows applies equally well to life experience. Faithful attention to details now greatly increases the chance of being successful in different circumstances.

Photo ©2005 and Commentary ©2025 by Chuck Davis
Monday, December 8, 2025

For the past 18 years, I have led snowshoe walks for the US Forest Service. The photography snowshoe walk is one that I really enjoy.

I ask each of the photography-walk participants, “What color is snow?” 95% respond, “white”. I follow up with the group, “Why then does the snow look grey or muddy in some of my winter shots?” The answer is a follow-on to last week’s photo parable wherein I introduced the importance of light. If your snow is dingy looking, give it more light. Some photographers recommend as much as two full stops of additional light.

“Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18 KJV).

What color is snow? Snow crystals are translucent. They reflect all the colors of the visible light spectrum. We perceive this to be white.

If your winter photographs look dingy, add more light. If your life feels dark, take another step toward Jesus. He can make you shine like the snow in today’s photo parable.

Photo and Commentary ©2025 by Maylan Schurch
Sabbath and Sunday, December 6 and 7, 2025

This past Tuesday I was heading back to my car in a large parking lot beside a busy intersection. I glanced up and saw what I believe are power poles. There were six wires attached to large ceramic insulators on those poles. What I saw – and I love it when I see this – were dozens of large birds sitting side-by-side on those wires. I snapped a photo of them, and I counted them off by 10s, and I estimate that there were at least 100 birds gathered closely together on those wires.

My photo has those birds silhouetted against a bright sky, so I can’t tell what kind of birds they were (though Robert Howson, our Tuesday Photo Parable blogger, tells me with great certainty that they’re Rock Pigeons, who are a communal species).

You see, even though those powerlines stretch blocks and blocks in either direction those birds wanted to be together. They weren’t exactly touching each other’s shoulders — it looked like there were maybe one or two inches separating each one. But there they were, grouped together – yet they gave each other enough space so they could individually launch out in flight if they wanted to.

I can imagine that if Paul could look at that scene, and if the Corinthian church board happened to be nearby, Paul might’ve said to them, “Hey, church board. Look at those companionable birds. Why can’t you be like that?”

He might have gone on to say, “Sure, when they’re down in the parking lot, those birds are probably pretty competitive for any food they might find there. But here they are, gathered back together, comfortable in each other’s company. No church splits, no offshoots, no rebels, just companionable fellowship.”