Instagram. Stuff in the way of my perfect picture.

Here's what I love: Instagram.

You already know I have an iPhone. You probably don’t know how addicted I was to the Angry Birds App (so addicted that I had to delete it off my phone after a sermon on idolatry)!

There’s usually some game or useful app that grabs my interest for a while.

My latest obsession is Instagram.

It’s super fun. If you don’t know what it is—it’s sort of a Twitter Feed of photos. You can “follow” people and see their photo “streams” as they post them. Instagram does have it’s share of 13 year-olds who mostly post photos of themselves in various hats, or their reflection in the mirror, or their toes, or the bulletin board in their room. Yawn.

But for me, (because of the talent and creativity of most of the people I follow), it’s like having a virtual photo gallery in my pocket. Plus, the whole idea behind Instagram (with the play on the word “telegram”) is that it’s like sending a photo postcard from wherever you are. And let me tell you, the people I follow live in and visit some amazing places. I’ve now seen up-to-the-minute photos of Brazil, Bali, Nepal, Uganda, Ireland, Scotland, England, Cape Town, Montana, Hawaii, and the streets of New York. It’s truly captivating.

Aside from the perk of being able to see other people’s amazing photos, I also get to take my own. I’ve always loved photography and I’ve been snapping photos with my iPhone for months now, but Instagram offers filters. The filter options basically give any random photo a more artsy, dramatic feel. You can edit the most “blah” photos and make them look truly cool.

I dream in squares now.

I'm constantly taking pictures in my head and sometimes actually snapping them with my phone...while driving... (Shhh).

Here's what I hate: stuff in the way of a perfect shot.

So, the other evening, I was on my way somewhere and there was an amazing sunset happening right before my eyes. I pulled over to try to take a quick picture of it.

The problem was, there was stuff in the way of my sunset. My eyes can see past the junk right in front of me and focus on the lovely sunset over the hills. But, the camera ends up focusing on the crap in the foreground. There was a bunch of stuff ruining my shot—things like stray tree branches, telephone poles, power lines and giant ugly street lights.

I snapped the photo anyway and got back in the car.

Then I thought about something a friend of mine had said concerning her new daughter-in-law: “She just doesn’t fit the picture of what I painted for my son.” Sounds harsh, but this woman is the sweetest thing. She uttered this phrase with tears in her eyes because she really wants to love her daughter-in-law. It was a significant analogy for her to use because she’s actually a painter and illustrator.

Before you go thinking she’s the meanest mother-in-law in the world, think about it for a minute.

Don't we all do that? We paint a picture in our heads of how our lives should be (or how our children's lives should look). And this painting in our heads definitely doesn’t have an ugly power-line running through the middle of it or a dead tree branch or a tattooed daughter-in-law.

It's like me trying to capture a shot of that perfect sunset but stuff keeps getting in the way...I’d like to tear all that stuff down.

But, that stuff, what is it really? Let’s look at them specifically:

* Tree branches, well, they can actually be quite beautiful and could add to the shot if I let them, plus, trees provide oxygen, and that's always good. Let's keep the trees.

* Telephone poles. I'm not sure ground lines will be around for much longer, but it will be a while before all these old phone poles come down...but, phones are pretty useful and they mark one of the great achievements of the 20th century... better keep them too.

* Power lines? Um, last I checked, power is a good thing.

* Giant street lamps--light the way, which is a plus on a dark night.

So, maybe when we look at our lives and they don’t match the picture we painted in our heads, maybe we should take inventory of what we feel is ruining said “art.”

There is a chance that the unwanted item is actually something quite useful--maybe it's something that’s providing oxygen or light or power or communication. It’s possible that there are things in the landscape of our lives that God put there to provide something for us or even for someone else within our lives.

Now, I'm not saying that there isn't crap in all of our lives that does actually need to be cut out. Litter is generally ugly and removable. Get it out of the picture. You probably put it there anyway.

But, those giant fixtures that are now a part of the landscape?—They have a Designer. He ordained their presence. Hopefully, you’ll see the usefulness and purpose they offer. Then, if you change your perspective, you can actually begin to see the beauty in them.

One of my favorite stories about God using the unexpected—the not-so-perfect—to provide for His people is the story of Rahab.

Here's my version: the Israelite spies are headed into Jericho. They have a plan. They trust that God will provide someone to help hide them. They might have had an idea in their heads—they’ve painted a picture of who that helper should be. Maybe he’ll be a big, strong body-guard type who also happens to be an Israeli sympathizer. Or maybe he’ll be a wise, respected member of the community. And then, BAM!—like a giant telephone pole right in the middle of their perfect sunset picture: It’s Rahab. A prostitute and a liar. Really God?

But, the spies don’t have time to argue or tell God how ugly this picture is becoming.

Rahab helps them as she should. The very thing that doesn’t fit into the Israelite’s dream painting is there to provide for them.

Not only that, God had a different perspective when he looked at Rahab. He must have seen a beauty deep within her because He didn’t just use her to provide for the Israelite spies. He integrated her into the big picture. I mean, seriously—BIG PICTURE: She became part of the bloodline of Christ. (!) Check out v. 5 of Matthew 1:1-16.

So, as I look at my life’s landscape, I’m going to try to remember that some of the items that don’t really fit my idea of a beautiful picture might be there to provide something very critical to my survival. Then, I’m going to pray for a change in perspective so that I can see the beauty in what God has placed in my life.