Rick Wilking is a Reuters contract photojournalist based in Denver, Colorado who has been shooting for Reuters for almost 25 years based in Europe, Washington, D.C. and now in Colorado. Rick recently developed the idea of spending time documenting the lives of a Christian “Quiverfull” family who have 15 children due to their belief that all family planning is best left in the hands of God. Rick produced the following piece of multimedia video from his time spent with the Jeub family in Colorado and tells us about the experience below. -  Jim Bourg

I am convinced that the easiest part of my job is taking pictures. Coming up with story ideas, getting access and then producing the final results are MUCH tougher! That was very true with this story. I read about Christian Quiverfull-minded folks who closely follow and live by Christian scripture and biblical verses and decided to try to find one of these families to document. I begged my way into a Quiverfull forum on the web and was met there with much skepticism about letting me in. One family in Kansas said maybe and another back east said I could come by. But neither were enthused and I knew the travel budget was too tight for a trip that distant and long.

Then I found the Jeub family, only a 90 minute drive away from my home in Colorado. They too were tentative at first but let me in after seeing stories I had done recently in their area. My work documenting the headquarters of the “Focus on the Family” organization, portraying troops returning from Iraq at a nearby military base and covering “The Purity Ball”, a Christian father-daughter event all convinced them of my fairness and the integrity of my photojournalism. They said they prayed on it hard and were led to let me into their home to tell their story through pictures and sound.

Quiverfull, like any other belief system or philosophy, takes different forms. Believers generally view children as a gift from God and avoid all forms of birth control. To many, including the Jeubs, the movement means trusting God entirely to decide your family size by surrendering your life to God.

The Jeubs say that goes for their reproductive life too. “Wendy and I believe God wants us to trust Him in our family planning. The results are his to deal out. We’re more than fine by that. We are amazed (italics theirs) at how incredible the blessings have been…..We have 15 children, but why would we say that #16 wasn’t a blessing? Or #17? Or #18?”

Once I met the Jeubs it was really just about being a fly on the wall witnessing what goes on normally in their lives and their home. Chris told the attendees during a church service held in their home that one of the best things about a photographer is that they are invisible. He then proceeded to introduce me.

Producing the video after the fact took almost as much time as shooting the pictures and video did. I think it is worth it though because the power of the images is just enhanced with motion, music and narration by the people involved. This old dog just decided to learn some new tricks and record audio and embrace video technology in addition to shooting still photos late last year. I’ve been working for Reuters for almost 25 years but this is my first video project.

For photographers the saying used to be that you can’t go wrong with kids or dogs. The Jeubs had recently lost the family dog but kids they had in abundance. Thirteen kids are living at home; six are under the age of 6, there’s a set of twins, a 4 month old baby and a 17-year-old celebrating her birthday. We in the business say this is a “target-rich environment” for making photos. Everywhere you looked there was something happening. The trick was to pick and choose the moments to focus on, the same as with any other story. It’s the little fleeting moments that make the best pictures, every time. Seeing them when others don’t and then capturing them in a creative way is the secret to success as a documentary photographer.

Thanks to the Jeub family: Zechariah, Priscilla, Havilah, Joshua, Josiah, Hannah, Keilah, Tabitha, Noah, Micah, Isaiah, Lydia, Cynthia, father Chris and mother Wendy for letting me into their life briefly and ignoring me as much as possible while I was there!

Here’s my favorite still image from the 50 some pictures that went into the video project and the two long days I spent with the Jeub family. The action of three-year-old Havilah seemingly floating around on the trampoline, the light, the way her dress twirled up - all combine to tell a story. If only her sister hadn’t appeared dressed in red in the background of the picture it would have been perfect. I guess you just can’t have it all!

News coverage is a daily activity for me, and however I get involved in a story it’s not just a job; it’s also what I enjoy doing. Sometimes I’m just an observer behind a camera, but other times I also end up being affected personally. When the new H1N1 flu virus broke out in Mexico there was an additional factor for me; it was impossible not to suffer the first days of the epidemic as the head of a family.

I thought of the photos that I wanted to take, but I couldn’t help thinking of my daughter, my wife and my mother. As Colombians living in Mexico City we were all exposed to the unknown virus. Fear and uncertainty dominated my family, friends and the millions of people with whom I share the streets of this metropolis.

Very early on Friday, April 24, I put on rubber gloves and a facemask that I bought from the corner pharmacy. The masks were still easy to find, but a day later their scarcity would become a problem. My daughter celebrated along with countless others of her age the sudden onset of vacation, not yet understanding that the break from school would become a virtual quarantine. It was recommended that children not leave their homes during the emergency. In the early days of the outbreak, the government said that the majority of the victims were young adults, but in normal flu outbreaks children and the elderly are always the most vulnerable.

Limited knowledge about the disease and the recommended precautions caused Mexico City residents to avoid physical contact, even between people who a day earlier would greet each other with two kisses, as is the custom in Mexico. Friends and colleagues began to stand at a distance in hopes of preventing the spread of something that we knew little about. But we were learning more about it minute by minute.

Early news about dying victims was disconcerting. Before the government declared that the current flu vaccine was useless for this strain, I went to a vaccination clinic where people were begging for the shot. I had hoped to get one for myself to be safe while covering the story, but I was denied as everyone else. People left the clinic with fear in their faces and voices when they asked each other, “What do we do now?”

Fearful of catching the flu, I climbed into a taxi to continue covering the outbreak. There were fewer people, fewer cars in the city’s normally congested streets. The human landscape changed to one of blue-masked pedestrians. By the end of the first weekend the population was better informed. Most were less frightened in spite of the fact that the virus was among us and spreading.

Monday was the beginning of the first full week with the virus in Mexico. The day was hot and strange, without traffic. Then, a few minutes before noon, the earth shook. My taxi tilted from left to right. Electric cables swung back and forth. I grabbed my camera and yelled to the driver, “Stop! It’s shaking!” I jumped out and the near-empty street was still trembling. I walked to the corner and saw people rushing out from buildings and houses all around me. I could see the fear in their eyes.

In front of Aragon Hospital the street filled with doctors and patients. Some couldn’t take the crisis and fainted. Dozens of people muttered, “…just what we needed…”

At that moment I remembered that my family was alone in our fifth floor apartment. I called my wife but she didn’t answer. I called my daughter’s cell phone but again, no answer. I kept taking pictures with one hand while calling with the other, and hoping that everything was alright.

In the end I confirmed that my family was fine and I felt momentary relief, but then I remembered my mother who had died just two days earlier. Just one day into the flu coverage, Saturday at 5 a.m., my mother, who also lived with us in Mexico City, passed away for reasons unrelated to the epidemic. In that difficult moment I had called my editors to tell them that I couldn’t continue with the coverage plan that day, and I was told to take all the time I needed.

I had the choice of not working due to my family emergency amidst the sudden appearance of the new flu virus. But then I realized that the best therapy for me and the best tribute to my mother would be to go out and report the news. Even in the most difficult moments I couldn’t stop observing the world and my own life through photography.