Everywhere you turn, someone’s talking about how AI is changing everything—from writing scripts to editing videos and even generating photos. As a storyteller who’s spent decades working alongside nonprofits, missionaries, and small businesses, I see the power of these tools. They can speed up workflows and help organize ideas. But here’s the truth that too often gets overlooked:

AI doesn’t feel. It can’t listen with its heart. It can’t sit quietly in a room and sense what’s happening beneath the surface.

I’ve been in huts in West Africa, cramped apartments in Eastern Europe, and rural towns across the U.S.—camera in hand, listening for the heartbeat of a story. What makes those stories resonate isn’t just the visuals or clean audio. It’s the empathy. It’s the relationship I’ve built with the person sitting across from me. It’s knowing when to ask a question, and more importantly, when not to.

AI can string together words, but it can’t replace presence. One moment that stays with me was while filming a missionary family in Togo. As the mother shared about the challenges they faced with their child’s health, there was a pause—her eyes filled with tears. That silence… that space… spoke louder than words. I didn’t interrupt. I didn’t prompt her to keep talking. I just let the moment breathe.

AI would’ve missed that. Or worse, tried to fill it in with what it thinks people want to hear.

The same goes for storytelling through photos. One of my mentors, Don Rutledge, taught me the power of context. A great image isn’t just about lighting and composition. It’s about showing people within their world—the complete picture of their dignity, struggle, and joy. That takes patience, trust, and relationship-building. AI can generate an image, sure. But it won’t travel the world with you. It won’t pray with a family before you hit “record.”

When a nonprofit or mission agency hires me, they’re not just hiring a camera operator. They’re inviting a partner who knows how to listen well, ask the right questions, and honor the stories they hold sacred.

That’s why human storytellers still matter.

In an AI-saturated world, authenticity is our superpower—not perfection or polish, but honest, human connection.

So, while I embrace today’s tools, I hold even tighter to the craft I’ve been honing for 40+ years—storytelling that breathes, connects, and changes lives.

Because stories still matter. And so do the people who tell them.

Rose Nantonah, a nurse, is setting up an IV with a child patient at the Baptist Medical Center in Nalerigu, Ghana.

Today is National Nurses Day, and I want to take a moment to recognize the often unseen and underappreciated heroes working on the front lines of healthcare worldwide: nurses.

In my work as a visual storyteller, I’ve had the privilege of photographing nurses in Ghana, Togo, and Nicaragua, and what I witnessed left a lasting impact on me.

Today, on International Nurses Day, we honor the dedicated nurses at Baptist Medical Centre (BMC) in Nalerigu, Ghana. Since its founding in 1958 by IMB missionary Dr. George Faile II, BMC has been a beacon of healing and hope in northern Ghana. Nurses at BMC play a vital role in providing compassionate care, often going above and beyond their duties to serve patients from Ghana and neighboring countries.

Nurses at BMC are the heart of this mission. From the pioneering days of missionary nurse Diana Floretta Lay, who served for 37 years and helped expand the hospital from 40 to 110 beds, to today’s local professionals like Senior Nursing Officer Kingsley Kombat, their commitment has never wavered. Despite resource limitations, these nurses provide critical care gracefully and resiliently, often under challenging conditions. Their work addresses physical ailments and embodies the love and compassion central to their faith, profoundly impacting the communities they serve.

We celebrate the extraordinary nurses serving at Hôpital Baptiste Biblique (HBB) in Tsiko, Togo. Since its founding in 1985, HBB has provided compassionate, Christ-centered care to thousands, with nurses at the heart of this mission. These dedicated professionals not only tend to physical ailments but also share the hope of the gospel with every patient, embodying a holistic approach to healing.

The hospital’s three-year Nursing Education Program, established in 1997, has been instrumental in training Togolese men and women to serve their communities through nursing. Graduates of this program are equipped to provide care that addresses spiritual, physical, emotional, social, and intellectual needs. Their commitment has been vital in sustaining the hospital’s operations and expanding its reach through mobile health clinics and community health evangelism initiatives.

In Nicaragua, I had the honor of documenting Tracy Warner, a nurse who ventured into remote villages to care for people who rarely, if ever, saw a medical professional. With no backup team, no modern equipment, and limited resources, Tracy offered what she had — skilled hands, a listening ear, and a heart for the people she served. Watching her work was a powerful reminder that healthcare isn’t just about medicine — it’s about presence.

These moments remind me that nursing is more than a job—it’s a calling. While today many of us will celebrate nurses in our local hospitals and clinics (rightfully so!), let’s also remember those serving quietly, faithfully, and courageously in some of the world’s hardest-to-reach places.

I’m sharing a few photos to show the conditions and honor the spirit of care that transcends borders.

To all the nurses out there: Thank you. You are seen, appreciated, and a hero.