It’s started.
We filmed for the first time last night. You told me we would begin with the songs. About ten of us came to the church with songs we’d written, and we released them to you. Everyone else came too and listened, soaking in that golden sunset through the stained glass windows.
I went around giddy, asking everyone for permission to film them. To my surprise, no one was even hesitant. They were nervous to sing, but weren’t even slightly bothered by the camera. Amy even told me she wouldn’t notice it.
Then we sat down, took a deep breath, and Allison started the first song. And my battery died.
I ran into the other room, confused but calm. What’s the plan, Papa? I grabbed my two battery chargers - but one was missing a cable. I plugged in all the batteries. All dead.
You smiled. Grab your laptop cable, you said.
I laughed quietly; it was the same type of cable, and would charge the batteries twice as fast. And so on we went. I walked back out to the sanctuary; Kyle, Allison’s husband, was filming her song. You had me covered.
Throughout the night, each battery had just enough life for either a whole song, or the part of it that you wanted me to film. There were times you had me turn off the camera even though there was battery life left. There were times that the battery was reading as dead, yet the camera kept rolling.
I sat in the front row, camera in my lap. The angle wasn’t quite what I wanted, so I nudged you. How about your Bible? you said. I grinned and fished it out of my backpack. Sure enough, it was the perfect height. And with the camera stationed on top of it, I got to just rest my hands on the sides of the book and breathe. I wasn’t even watching the screen. I was watching the singers, my brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers, and often I even closed my eyes in worship. I rocked back and forth just slightly, as I do when I am in your presence, and I knew that the shot was swaying with me.
The altitude was getting to me a little bit. Papa, can you help me take a deep breath? You did, and I glanced down to see that the camera followed my stomach with a beautiful tilting motion, up and down, just as Brayden was leading into his chorus.
Stand up for this next one, you said, and I did. Krik and two of his kids, Kodee and Keaden, sat at the microphones. All of the kids were invited, apparently, but the other two were out playing. I stood and filmed until the moment when Kooper came up and wanted to sit on the stool with Keaden. Keaden pushed him away, and Kooper made the most dramatic pout and threw up his four-year-old hands. I couldn’t help but laugh. And at that moment, the battery died.
I thought we were done filming that song, but you said, Go ahead and swap it out. I threw another battery in, just in time for Kylie to run up and sit beside Kodee on the piano bench. Kylie, two years old, grabbed the microphone and sang especially loudly, loving the attention. At this point we were all laughing. Then she ran down and danced for everyone. I followed her with my camera, a shot I wouldn’t have been able to get if you hadn’t told me to stand, or to switch my battery.
You’re not just my director. You’re my A.C. and my D.P. Apparently, filming is as easy as breathing with you.