Sleeping Beauty Castle during the fireworks, framed by the Partners statue. Tripod + remote shutter, long exposure on the 14–24mm f/2.8G. Manual focus, no flash.
Why this fits Elder Holland
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland: “Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead… Some blessings come soon, some come late… but they come.” Fireworks are a patience test. You compose in the dark, wait through false starts, and trust the next burst will fill the sky. That is discipleship in miniature: keep your place, stay steady, believe light is coming.
Pocket I’m keeping
When life feels like a long exposure with nothing on the sensor yet, don’t touch the tripod. Hold your ground. Keep praying, keep working, keep walking. The frame will fill.
BTS (how I made it)
Arrived early to anchor composition on Walt & Mickey leading to the castle and sky
Tripod low, remote shutter to avoid vibration; manual focus set before showtime
Long exposure to “draw” fans and heart-shapes in the air; no flash to keep ambient color
Wide at 14–18mm to include crowd, statue, castle, and sky in one story
Final reflection
Walt’s “dreams come true” meets Elder Holland’s “don’t you quit.” Courage starts the dream; covenant faith finishes it. Stay close to Christ and keep moving—light always finds the faithful.
Pirates of the Caribbean, Disneyland — the dog with the keys. Captured from a moving boat, manual exposure, 24mm at f/2.8, high ISO, no flash allowed.
Intro
The pirates beg; the dog holds the keys. It’s funny—and it’s a mirror. The way out is often right in front of us, but we still have to earn it: patience, timing, and steady hands in the dark.
Excerpt
No flash, no tripod, no second chances—just a drifting boat, dim lantern light, and the moment you either catch or miss. I rode the attraction several times, dialed in manual settings, and waited for the boat to line up with the dog and the bars. The frame finally clicked when the scene, the motion, and my breathing all settled together.
Notes from the Devotional
“Righteousness has to become a matter of reflex.” — Elder Neal A. Maxwell When the light is low and everything moves, you don’t have time to analyze; you respond because you’ve practiced. That’s true for cameras and character.
Perspective
“Don’t be discouraged if, in your lifetime, you seem surrounded and outnumbered.” — Elder Maxwell Surrounded by bars? Sometimes the key is closer than it feels. Keep your eye on it—and keep reaching.
Practice (today, not someday)
“Obeying is one of the best ways of exploring.” — Elder Maxwell Honor the rules of the ride—no flash photography is allowed—then explore within those limits: open your aperture, raise ISO, steady your body, and work the timing on each pass.
Final Reflection
“Believe in yourself not only for what you now are but for what you have the power to become.” — Elder Maxwell Low light doesn’t mean no light. There’s enough light to grow if you learn how to see it.
Pocket I’m keeping
“Be very careful about what you let come inside your storehouse of memories.” — Elder Maxwell This frame reminds me to stock my mind with moments earned by patience and restraint, not shortcuts.
Behind the Shot
• location: Pirates of the Caribbean, Disneyland • camera: full-frame body, 24mm f/1.4G • settings: manual, f/2.8, high ISO, shutter fast enough to freeze boat bobble • constraints: moving boat, dim practicals, absolutely no flash allowed • approach: rode multiple times, pre-focused, timed shutter as boat paralleled the dog
Tips if you want this shot
flash is not allowed on this ride—respect the rules, the show, and other guests
use manual exposure; start around f/2.8, 1/125s, ISO 6400–12800 and adjust
stabilize with breath control and elbows tucked; shoot short bursts as the boat glides parallel
Salt Lake Temple with bus light trails (5 s) and a second exposure for the moon’s detail—the driver was literally playing Don’t Stop Believin’.
Excerpt Headlights, moonlight, and a bus playing “Don’t Stop Believin’.” Intensity 10+.
Intro A passenger bus idled beside me on South Temple. I waited. When it finally pulled out, I opened a long exposure—the lights turned to wide ribbons across the Salt Lake Temple. Then I made a second, short exposure for the moon so its texture wouldn’t blow out. The street soundtrack? Don’t Stop Believin’. Right place, right song, right night.
Notes from the song (what’s good in it)
Hope is a direction, not denial.
Ordinary people + late nights + small steps → real progress.
Community lifts courage; we don’t walk alone.
Grit and wonder can share the same frame.
Perspective (direct quotes) “Streetlight people …” “Searchin’ in the night …”
Practice (today, not someday)
One real step toward the work that matters.
Encourage one person by name.
Re-anchor: Grounded • Rooted • Established • Settled.
Final Reflection Faith feels like this image: long exposure for the road ahead, quick exposure for the guiding light. The temple stands—reinforced at the foundation—and so do I.
Pocket I’m Keeping Between streetlights, keep moving.
What I Hear Now (direct quote) “Don’t stop believin’.”
Sun crowns the Angel Moroni and echoes in the red-car reflection—heaven above, witness below. Today I’m choosing to be “grounded, rooted, established, and settled.” Elder Neal A. Maxwell’s devotional was given 44 years ago today (Sept 15, 1981); I’ve listened to and reread it more than forty times since last night, and it still steadies me. Behind the shot (BTS) iPhone only. I walked the grounds, lining up angles until the sun sat directly behind Moroni. I waited for the clouds to thin, then chose the red car as my foreground to mirror the spire and add a second “sun.” Composing a photograph isn’t easy—it takes patience, timing, and a little inspiration.
Excerpt When life feels hot and hurried, deep roots matter. Elder Neal A. Maxwell taught us to become “grounded, rooted, established, and settled.” Today I’m practicing that—quietly, covenant by covenant—so the sun doesn’t scorch my faith.
Intro What a coincidence—September 15. On this date in 1981, Elder Neal A. Maxwell delivered a devotional that feels tailor-made for our moment. He urged a discipleship with depth, the kind that survives heat and headlines: grounded, rooted, established, and settled. He reminded us that God’s curriculum is deliberate—patience, meekness, love, self-discipline—and that routine isn’t pedestrian; it’s providential. Real growth happens “in process of time” and “according to the flesh”—ordinary days doing eternal work. If the world’s scaffolding falls away, what stands? Holy ground and holy habits. I want those roots.
Straight line • Deep roots > fast leaves (Colossians 2:6–7). • After we’ve “suffered a while,” grace “stablish[es], strengthen[s], settle[s]” (1 Peter 5:10). • The seed survives the sun when nourished “with great diligence, and with patience” (Alma 32). • Ordinary days are eternal classrooms; portable skills—meekness, charity, self-discipline—rise with us.
Notes from Elder Maxwell (Sep 15, 1981) • Growth without roots scorches. Disciples withstand heat because they are grounded—not trending. • Scaffolding and applause fall away; covenant habits remain. • God’s curriculum forms eternal, portable skills we’ll need forever. • Routine can be resplendent: quiet covenant keeping outlasts headlines. • Keep gospel perspective: our basic circumstances are strikingly similar—we are God’s children, accountable, loved, and capable of steady growth.
Perspective (directly from the devotional) “A hundred years from now, today’s seeming deprivations and tribulations will not matter then unless we let them matter too much now. A hundred years from now, today’s serious physical ailment will be but a fleeting memory.”
“A thousand years from now, those who now worry and are anguished because they are unmarried will, if they are faithful, have smiles of satisfaction on their faces in the midst of a vast convocation of their posterity. The seeming deprivation which occurs in the life of a single woman who feels she has no prospects of marriage and motherhood properly endured is but a delayed blessing, the readying of a reservoir into which a generous God will pour all that he hath. Indeed, it will be the Malachi measure: ‘there shall not be room enough to receive it’ (Malachi 3:10).”
Practice (today, not someday) • Choose one root to deepen: scripture before screens; prayer with listening; sacrament with intent. • Trade hurry for holy: slow the reply, soften the tone, serve someone nearby. • Write one “settled” choice: the commandment I will keep even when the sun is hot. • Plant a small habit that outlasts headlines: five minutes of gratitude, one quiet act of mercy, one bridge-building conversation.
Final reflection I can’t cool the world’s weather, but I can deepen my roots. If I will be grounded in Christ, the same sun that scorches shallow soil will ripen real fruit. Ordinary days, kept with covenants, become the very ground where God “stablishes, strengthens, and settles” the soul.
Pocket I’m keeping • Deep roots before bright leaves. • Perspective over panic. • Ordinary days are eternal classrooms. • Meekness travels well—now and forever.
What I hear now “Rooted and built up in him, and stablished in the faith” (Colossians 2:7). “After that ye have suffered a while… stablish, strengthen, settle you” (1 Peter 5:10). “Nourished by your faith with great diligence, and with patience” (Alma 32:41).
Saratoga Springs Utah Temple with a rising waxing gibbous moon.
Excerpt None of us is immune from trial. Elder Neal A. Maxwell teaches that if we endure well, today’s struggles are shaped into tomorrow’s blessings. Here’s my mark-in-time takeaway and how I’m applying it.
Intro I listened again to Elder Neal A. Maxwell’s devotional “If Thou Endure Well.” The sentence that stayed with me: None of us can or will be immune from the trials of life. However, if we learn to endure our struggles well, they will be turned into blessings in eternity. That’s both bracing and kind—God doesn’t waste pain when we place it in His hands.
Straight line (what he’s saying) • Mortality guarantees opposition; surprise is optional. • Enduring well ≠ grim hanging-on; it’s faithful submission, patience, and continuing to choose light. • Timing is part of God’s tutoring—deliverance sometimes tarries so discipleship can deepen. • Gratitude and meekness change how trials shape us. They don’t shorten the storm, but they change the sailor. • The Lord consecrates affliction to our gain when we refuse cynicism and keep covenant routines (scripture, prayer, sacrament, service).
Final reflection Enduring well is a decision repeated—quietly—over and over. It’s choosing not to narrate my trial as abandonment, but as apprenticeship. It’s trusting that God is doing more with my life than I can see from the shoreline.
Pocket I’m keeping • Expect opposition; practice patience on purpose. • Pair prayers with small, durable acts (keep the next covenant, serve the next person, take the next right step). • Measure “progress” by faithfulness, not by ease.
What I hear now Tonight’s images—reflections, a quiet bench, a waxing gibbous over the spire—feel like a lesson in waiting. I can’t rush the moon to its mark, but I can keep framing, steady my hands, and choose light again. If I endure well, God will finish the alignment.
After hiking over 2,000 feet to my favorite mountain ridge, I waited in silence with my 1000mm + TC 2x lens—watching the Supermoon rise in full glory. It reminded me that some things are only visible to those willing to climb.From this 2K-foot summit, I waited with my 1000mm lens and 2x teleconverter. The shot was worth it. My eyes soaked in the rising Supermoon, but I wanted to remember the experience forever. It took patience, precise camera settings, and above all, an ‘I’m able’ attitude that brought me the stillness I needed. Here’s the result.
That simple phrase didn’t just motivate me. It rejuvenated me. It reminded me that every setback I’ve endured, every delay, and every heartbreak was not the end—but a test of endurance. Like Edison, like Tesla, and like countless others who stood firm when things fell apart, I now carry this quiet fire inside me. No matter what the odds say—I’m able. And that means everything.
I’m Able Poem by Jet Mariano
I’m able—not because I’ve won, But because I choose to rise with the sun. I’m able—not from praise or might, But by standing up when wrong feels right.
I’m able—through the tear-stained night, To cradle hope and guard the light. I’m able—though I walk alone, To make the climb and call it home.
I’ve come to realize—I don’t need titles to prove my worth. I don’t measure myself by applause or position. What I carry is truth. Lived truth. Quiet truth. Hard-earned truth. And in those silent battles when no one’s watching, I remind myself: I’m able. And that means everything.
Captured in silence at Yosemite’s Tunnel View — February chill, bulb exposure, and a single LED light to find focus. In darkness, I discovered a sharper image and a quieter soul.
I stood alone where shadows climb, Where granite guards the edge of time. The wind was sharp, the night was bare— But still, I knew Thou would be there.
I could not see my hands or feet, Just trembling limbs in silent beat. One LED—my only spark— To chase away the endless dark.
Each breath was frost, my fingers numb, Yet I refused to yield or run. A tripod, lens, and faith I gripped, Till starlight through the valley slipped.
And while I waited, heart bowed low, The Spirit whispered what I know:
“There are so many things to be endured: illness, injustice, insensitivity, poverty, aloneness, unresponsiveness, being misrepresented and misunderstood, and, sometimes, even enemies.”
Still I remained, though cold and worn, Refusing night to leave me torn. I stayed until the shutter’s breath Returned a frame that conquered death.
Not for the praise or photograph, But proof that I had passed the path. That even here, beneath despair— With frozen limbs and unanswered prayer— Thou art there.
