And in a moment of suspended reality, a battered clapboard fills the frame in front of the lens. “Scene 70, Setup 2, Take 1,” it reads. The clapboard marks the audio and video clips with information to help the editors, and provides an audible spike to later synchronize digital files. But it also marks a kind of boundary between the real world and this one of our own creation.
My bags are packed, sitting by the door for an early morning departure tomorrow. I’m driving to the coastal town of Malindi with a bunch of our crew for the film project. The trip will take all day even though the roads are in relatively good shape. It’s mornings like this, however, when I miss the airplane…
What struck me from my interactions with those who shared their stories was how AIDS, once the politics and economics and demographics are stripped away, is always about a person simply longing for transformation: From sick to well. From outcast to loved. From hopeless to hopeful.
Our media team is a flurry of activity these days, and this short letter is mainly to give you an update on what’s going on there. We’ve recently finished a couple of smaller projects (including the video that Amelia helped out on – watch it here), and now we are shifting focus back to the larger movie project.
“And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard?” I remember the first time I read those words in the book of Romans. I was a mere teenager, a tenderfoot in my faith, and up until that point it never really crossed my mind that there could be people in this world who have never had an opportunity to hear the name of Jesus.