Elohay Mikarov

Across the dinner table, her head was down; every head crooked down in a bow of worship before the remarkable evening meal. Looking from head to head (in some cases balding spot to balding spot), it was a sight to see, chilling to behold the way the faces were lit and glowing in the shine of the object of each of their adoration.

All around the dinner table, their heads inclined toward their cell phones.

Something that I have noticed (and of which I've partaken) is that on occasion when people gather closest, they tend to escape to their respective digital worlds. For some, it's Facebook on their phone; others cannot leave their ESPN updates for fear of missing the winning score; emails tend to capture attentions for the necessity of 'work'. And the saddest part in all of this?

Whenever I'm the one with the phone out, I don't even consider how pathetic I really am in light of my urgency to accomplish little.

In an office job, our emails can wait for a couple of hours—longer than a day, probably not—but they can certainly survive at the least for the time that we spend with our loved ones. Whenever Facebook draws us in, the most challenging thing to grasp is how it is a digitalnetworking site, and does not connect people as strongly as they can, and should, connect with one another.

Next time I attend a family dinner or a reunion, or over holiday, I will turn off my phone. And when I turn it back on

I will get back to you as soon as I can; please leave a message after the tone.

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When we interact with God, we may pray to Him, seek Him, speak to Him, and rest within the fold of his hand. Even with our limit as man, with every breath we have we may know God. In Jeremiah 23:23 we hear of God Nearby, omnipresent and with each of us in every moment of our days.

“‘Am I only a God nearby,’ declares the LORD, ‘and not a God far away?’”

— Jeremiah 23:23

Elohim Chaiyim

Bright strings and warm winds awaken the hall, tuning the symphony to life, the crass of the brass ringing as it reaches the audience. With every huff of breath, stroke of the hand and take of the bow, the muse shows its face. In music, a variety of instruments play, many notes draw forth from many sources, and in the most intricate and sophisticated of music, notes are even implied beneath the audible level. Through music: creation.

Today as I was driving back to Texas A&M University, I enjoyed the time to mull over the complexity of such creations, and I came to a simple yet profound conclusion: music is alive. Breathing, flowing, music evolves from its creators, the players.

As man, we are made in the image of God, the creator—made to create. That is our muse, that is our privilege and rite on this earth, to steward God's creations and creatures well and to worship Him in our actions.

And we worship in music and trade by creating.

We are creatures of ingenuity and passion, of thought and soul in the same package; our human condition allows us the special ability to create and imagine like no other creäture on this earth. As man, we may create like none-other for one reason only: we are created like none other.

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In Jeremiah 10:10, we hear of the Living God, a god who continues and currently lives and interacts with our world; a living god is infinitely more complex and beautiful than any of the shadows so often called gods by others: there is only the one true, living God of Abraham.

“But the LORD is the true God; he is the living God, the eternal King. When he is angry, the earth trembles; the nations cannot endure his wrath.”

— Jeremiah 10:10

Elohay Kedem

Have you ever sat riveted to those around you at an airport whilst awaiting your flight to board? The young businessman in the suit seems a bit self-conscious; the middle-aged woman with the children seems intent upon silencing her babe, needing peace and quiet. Sometimes at the mall you see people out with friends, laughing and having fun; the families are always entertaining and tend to have that distinct tension walking along—we know who's in charge of the wandering clan, and who balances the checkbook.

But why are people so thoroughly intriguing?

Whenever I happen to have my camera with me as I enter the public, barely can I resist the urge to capture so many faces from so many places! If you've spent time with my camera and I, you most certainly know this tendency.

A face carries the emotions, the fears and dreams of a person; scars show the toils and strife, the eyes hold the soul and spark of mind; faces characterize a persona in its entirety—and people are made in the image of God. My favorite portraits rely on a single variable: genuine emotion. And no matter the emotion, if the expressions are a genuine feeling, not a cheeze-whiz-style smile, people tend to look more natural. More natural, more beautiful: more human. Faces carry a story.

I once had the chance to take an afternoon on a playground with a pair of boys (who embody the energy of the universe) and their mother. As they played, I joined them, often toting my camera along—especially as my objective was to take photos. Only later, looking back at the photos I'd taken of the two rascals, did I realize that the best were impromptu and unplanned, better yet if the camera was barely even aimed!

The only reason that I could think of for this (odd) phenomenon is that the boys offered their most natural, genuine face during the most natural, spontaneous moments; it stands to reason that the photos weren't just lucky.

“So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”

— Genesis 1:27

We were made in the image of God; humans are animals, some of the most cunning and reasonable animals in existence, though certainly not the smartest of them all. Our power as a race stems from our ingenuity and passion—more specifically, from our characteristic souls.

“God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.”

— Genesis 1:31

Through all of my years, I have never met a dull man; some are bored, slovenly or slothful, but no matter where you go on earth, you will find people with a story and a purpose.

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None may look upon the Face of God and survive for the sheer glory and power of His image. God is beyond our comprehension and understanding, so perfect and pure is His character.

Deuteronomy 33:27 claims the name of Elohay Kedem, the God of the beginning:

“The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. He will drive out your enemies before you, saying, ‘Destroy them!’”

— Deuteronomy 33:27

Made in His image, we all share the common origins of perfection, and our imperfection only taints the canvas as we allow it; though God created many things, only after one day and creation did God claim that his work was "very good". As mankind, we are stewards of our world. We are marked men from the birth of all Man.

It's intriguing to view faces for one particular reason, though: a face is only the beginning of God's story for each of us.

El HaNe'eman

Every day when I opened the front door of my home—my dog loved me. With the slamming of a car door and the clap of a latch, she knew who had come home. Lucy rushed to greet us from her soft, supple cove on the couch; she would prance and dance about my feet, jumping and wagging furiously to express her happiness; her voice would wine pitifully and heartily for one reason: her boy was home.

Sometimes I held groceries in my arms, true, and on such occasions she tended to spend less time jumping for my arms and more time jumping for the bags in my arms (to help carry them for me, no doubt). But most of the time, almost every time that I entered her Highness's kingdom, I held nothing but my book-laden backpack. And my viola. And my swim bag.

Whenever I came in bundled and bound by my many bags, she would wait for me; she didn't lose interest in me, didn't scamper for her cozy bed on the couch out of impatience. As long as I was able to know her, she was utterly faithful to me.

Fondly, I recall sprawling on the floor next to her still, quiet form while I attacked my homework late at night; she was the only one who would stay up with me while I worked after my parents and brother all disappeared to their rest. And as we lay there, she would scoot herself frame against my side and sigh contentedly, her snout nosing up to my hand as a subtle reminder that she awaited my scratching fingers behind her ears—but she never pushed for it, rather waiting patiently for me to rub her head affectionately when I had finished with the most stressful load.

Watching my every move, she would follow me as I distributed laundry around the house to all the closets and drawers. The sweetest part was how she would follow me no matter how comfortable she had just made herself in mom's bed (right in the middle of the just-clean bed sheets), in the closet under the low-hung clothes, or on the rug in the entryway.

And now she's gone.

We don't hear her tinkling, jingling collar as she sneaks and sniffs about the house for any loose food anymore. As I walk into the house, I hear only the silence left. As I walk in, I smell the clean smell of a fresh, sterile house.

Every day when I open the front door of my home—I love my dog.

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The creator (Elohim) of the universe loves me like a dog—or more accurately, I think now with reverence back on Lucy and how she loved me like God.

Deuteronomy 7:9 describes God as El HaNe'eman: The Faithful God.

“Know therefore that the LORD your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments.”

— Deuteronomy 7:9

Semper fidelis: "ever faithful". Marines mirror the mantra of God, humans made in His image living in one of the most complex forms of preservation known to the human psyche, sacrificing the team for the person in a code that never leaves a man behind, never gives up.

God always chases after us in our lives. He is felt when I lay crushed beneath despair, and felt in the wonderful celebrations after overcoming adversity. Whenever time grow tough, He doesn't leave me alone, but stands by my side as a silent strength. He doesn't fight my battles for me—He makes me better by giving me the strength to fight for myself.

Always there, during the good and the bad, God is faithful.

I'm not—But I'm trying.

Elohim

Ponderosa pine fills the air, the scent of a comforting cool vanilla milkshake as it wafts across the nose. Mountain air holds a tight, uncomfortable chill around shoulders, the sun warming from across the peak and behind the front-line protection—the ranging Rockies—but ever out of sight behind the dreary, misting sleet.

Have you ever slept under the stars? Ever spent time in the out-of-doors, in the elements? Or possibly spent time in a damp, drizzling forest? Oh, how beauty shows!

Nature sustains itself with healing rain, with seasons and circling life. Majesty mounts the peaks with the first and last golden rays of sunlight, and misting frozen rain dresses the rough-hewn edges of the mountains with peaceful beauty before my eyes.  And from the behind the range—the thunder rolls.

Power pours from nature's every opening, and the strength and might of a sudden flash of lightning, or of a fiery flare in the forest, stand against all the powers of humanity.

Cold evening settles, the stars hidden behind the fog but the moon glowing softly beneath its humid halo of cold fog. A small campfire crackles to warm and dry the sharp bite from the air, and offer a more jovial glow from below the forest canopy.

Face it, we're scattered and broken ants across the face of the earth, and we don't even stand a chance against the awesome, creative, healing power of the natural world around us.

In the midst of natural power—we are utterly powerless.

None of that matters, though, in light of one, singular fact: that nature only faintly shadows the sheer, raw power of God.

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In Genesis 1:1, the first name of God in the Bible appears: "In the beginning, God*..."

"Elohim" holds the unusual property of being a plural noun—used with singular verbs; it is the first-and-foremost portrayal of the Trinity in the Christian biblical texts. The name bases itself in the Hebrew for "strength" or "power", and is the name for the creator god*.

Also, variations of this Hebrew word show many of the aspects of the character of God*.

NOTE: When I use "God" (with a capitalized 'G'), I reference the character, name, and personality of the god of Abraham; when I use "god" (with no capital lettering), it is a reference to the loose concept of a deity in general, of any existing god, regardless of character, power, or other descriptions.