Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but getting lost isn't new. Ending up somewhere at the wrong time isn't new either. I've learned to take it in stride for the most part. Sometimes I look around and wonder; "Well, what is it that I'm supposed to do here?" Usually, I can find a reason for being where I am. This time, I looked at my friend from my old ward. It wasn't a coincidence she'd found me.
"What class are you going to?" I asked.
I ended up in a class about photography. By mistake. As I've said before, I'm not a photographer, but sitting in that room, my love for God's creations, nature, and the gift of each day painted beyond our doorways came back.
I remembered my Granny. I don't have a lot of memories of her. She died when I was young. I love her though. I think of her a lot. As I thought about being outside and considered how God can use nature to testify of His Love, I remembered her photographs.
Flowers. The gardens she grew. There were so many pictures of God's creations that I remember my aunts and mom wondering what to do with them all when she was gone.
This morning I went into my backyard and looked for God's Love. I found it.
I came inside and opened the file of photos Granny took all those years ago. I found God's Love there too. Like a reflection of my morning. Like a new memory of her.